Going Through the Motions
by Buffybot
Summary: After another dismal summer at the Dursley’s Harry goes back to Hogwarts unwilling and unready to accept the events of last year. For Ron and Hermione they begin the complicated and often frustrating transition from friends into something more.
1. The Rescue

_A/N: This is a sixth year fic and does contain spoilers from OotP, which if you haven't read by now, shame on you!_

CHAPTER ONE: The Rescue

It was far from the best summer Hermione could recall having. Obviously there were worse fates than being stuck at Number 12 Grimmauld Place since the end of the school year, but at the moment she was having trouble seeing them. It wouldn't have been so bad if she had at least been allowed to sit in on the meetings with the members of the Order, but even that had not been permitted. The adults would share what information they deemed relevant, but Hermione knew there was a great deal they were holding back – and it was beginning to frustrate her. She understood Mrs. Weasley, Professor Lupin and the others wanting to protect them, but she, Ron, and even Ginny were in as deep as the rest of them. Couldn't they see that? Now that Voldemort was trying to regain power with the aid of his Death Eaters, it probably wouldn't be much longer before the Order's attempts to shield them from everything would no longer work. If Voldemort had entered the Ministry of Magic, the most heavily secured building aside from Azkaban, what was to stop him and his band of followers from doing the same thing again?

Aside from Voldemort himself, the Dementors of Azkaban were the Ministry's highest priority. The Aurors had their hands full with the inmates of Azkaban. Without the Dementors, there were too many prisoners for them to look after. The Aurors had been granted permission to stun the more difficult to handle prisoners, but that would only work for so long. If the Dementors returned to Azkaban under the direction of Voldemort, there would be no way even all the Ministry's Aurors would be able to stop them.

The _Daily Prophet _had taken to reporting any and all sightings of Voldemort, no matter how unbelievable they sounded. It was as if the wizarding newspaper was trying to make up for the months it made Harry and Dumbledore sound like mad fools. The majority of the articles were pure speculation, except for the weekly column that talked about Corneilus Fudge's impending resignation. The wizarding world was screaming for him to step down after being lied to for months about Voldemort's return, even though a good majority of those people were the same ones who jumped on the bandwagon to criticize Harry, saying he was just looking for a way to be in the spotlight again.

Fudge had stopped speaking to the press altogether, something that had done nothing to help his image. The Ministry even had to go to such extreme measures as to set up a barrier to prevent any incoming mail from getting in because of the enormous amount of howlers he had been getting. Possible candidates for the new minister were already going around, including Dumbledore and Ron's father. Dumbledore was named because for weeks the _Prophet_ had wrote about his battle inside the Ministry against the Dark Lord, the story getting more exaggerated with every printing. Ron's father had also been named – much to the excitement of all the Weasley's – because after having to endure The Ministry's blatant denial and duplicity for the last two years, they wanted someone honest who wouldn't keep them in the dark, and the pro-muggle supporters also wanted someone who had a genuine concern for the wizarding world's neighbours. The _Prophet_ was running pools on how long it would be before Fudge stepped down – the longest estimate was three months.

With The Order keeping them in the dark, and the _Prophet_ not reporting much of anything that could be considered of value, it was she who was more irritated and impatient with the current situation than Ron, who teased her mercilessly about their sudden role reversals. She supposed some of her irritation came from the fact that they had received very little news about Harry. He had stopped writing altogether after his birthday, and no one would tell them much except that he was safe at the Dursley's. To her, there was a big difference between 'safe' and 'well off.'

She had survived the summer in large part because of Ron. He kept her mind off the fact that she had not been home since the summer before, and had been there through every short and bleak letter they had received from Harry when he had still been writing to them – usually only because she or Ron had owled him first. The last they had heard from him was a brief note thanking them for the gifts they had sent him on his birthday. He refused to reply to any other letters they sent, and eventually Hermione gave up writing to him. Ron had tried easing her worries by telling her it couldn't be much fun for him being stuck with those horrid muggles, and maybe he just needed some space after everything that happened the last school year.

She pictured Harry locked in his room by his Aunt and Uncle, being alone day and night with nothing to occupy his time but thoughts about Sirius. What did it matter if he was safe if he was lonely and miserable with no one to talk to?

Ron really had been a good friend, and from the amount of time they were spending together it was almost unnatural that they were arguing very little. She couldn't really describe what had brought about the change. It was both comfortable and unnerving at the same time. It was as if unknowingly they had moved to some new level in their friendship where they both tended to infuriate each other a lot less. They still had the occasional row, and when it did happen it was bad. The worst one had happened two days earlier when he had caught her reading a letter Viktor had sent her. She had made the colossal mistake of telling him Viktor had been writing to her all summer. Ron had been such a big prat about it, she wondered if he was ever going to grow up at all and get over this childish grudge he had against Viktor Krum for no good reason. Only this morning had she started speaking to him again, and that was only because Professor Lupin and Tonks were taking them to see Harry. She was still angry with him and she wanted him to know that. She wasn't sure why she had felt the need to keep it a secret that Viktor had been writing to her and vice versa, but Ron had no right to get upset the way he did. How dare he tell her who she could and could not befriend. Ron Weasley might be her best friend but he did not control her life, and the sooner he learned that the better.

That was where things stood with them now. They were both seated in the back of the car on opposite sides, not talking. Tonks had borrowed the vehicle from an unnamed source, and Hermione suspected the reason Lupin had not asked her how she had found it was because he didn't entirely believe she had come about it in legal ways. Tonks said they could use it for the whole day if needed, but she had to bring it back as soon as they had finished with it.

They passed the road sign that said Privet Drive, and it would only be a few moments longer before they arrived at the Dursley's. Her mind began running through the possible scenarios they would find Harry in. He would be locked in his room and angry at the both of them like he had been last summer when he had been forced to stay cooped up with the Dursley's while they had enjoyed freedom at Phoenix headquarters. Or perhaps he had spent so much time wallowing in his own misery, thinking he could have prevented Sirius' death that he wanted to be left alone completely. Both situations seemed equally likely to Hermione as Tonks pulled the car up in front of the most well kept house she had seen in her life.

Her parents were neat and conscientious people, but nothing like on this scale. Each flowerbed was lined up perfectly, with an equal amount of space between it and the next one. If they weren't muggles and against magic in every imaginable way, she would swear they had put some sort of a spell on the grass to make it look that green. That just wasn't natural.

Lupin turned around in the passenger seat to face them. "Do you want one of us to go in with you? They can be a bit, ah… _difficult_."

"We'll be fine, Professor," Hermione assured him.

"I could always change into an overweight warlock and scare that cousin of Harry's," Tonks said mischievously.

"I'm sure Dudley would still be bigger then you," said Ron snickering, as he stepped out of the car.

As they were walking up the driveway and passed the Dursley's obnoxiously shiny car, Ron tried to strike up a conversation with Hermione. "Is it normal for muggles to be this tidy?"

She shrugged in response and pressed a finger to the doorbell of the house.

He sighed. "Are you ever going to talk to me again?"

"We're talking right now," she replied smoothly.

Ron tried to quell the frustration building inside him and it worked surprisingly – but just barely. "Look, I'm sorry about going off the way I did about ruddy Krum's letters. That's why you're still mad, right? You've been waiting for me to apologize."

There was the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door, so Hermione spoke quickly. "No, I haven't been waiting for an apology, because for you to apologize you'd have to mean it. And I know you'll just do the same thing again, so what's the point?"

Before Ron could respond, the door swung open, and someone nearly as large replaced it. He glanced down at Ron and Hermione, narrowing his portly eyebrows together. "Yes?"

"We're here to see Harry," Ron told him. He let his hand brush back the side of his jacket just enough so that the tip of his wand was visible.

Dudley's already enormous eyes widened in fear. He waddled back from the door, muttering some incoherent response and using a beefy arm to point up the stairs.

By the time they set foot in the house, Dudley was already halfway to the back door. They could see Harry's Aunt working in her tulip garden and his Uncle sitting on a lawn chair reading the paper.

"Come on," Ron said, steering her up the stairs. "I don't want to be around when that lot comes in."

The entire wall leading up the stairs was covered in photographs and portraits of Dudley Dursley's portly face. It was as if Harry was a nonentity.

"That was mean," Hermione said, when they had almost reached the top.

"What?"

"Showing him your wand like that."

"It's not like I was going to use it. I just didn't want him to try and stop us from seeing Harry."

Part of her agreed with Ron's methods, but she managed to maintain an air of disapproval about it. From the awful stories she had heard about the Dursley's, they deserved more than a threat for the way they had treated Harry since he was a baby.

They had arrived outside of Harry's bedroom. The door was shut, and no noise could be heard from inside.

Ron rapped his knuckles on the door. "Harry?" When he received no response, he went to knock again – and pulled back his hand as the door opened.

Harry stood in the doorway, blinking in surprise at the sight of his two best friends standing there. "Ron, Hermione, what are you doing here?"

The greeting wasn't as bad as some of the ones Hermione had imagined. As far as she could tell he didn't look angry to see them, and that was indeed a good sign. She studied him carefully. He had lost weight, that much she was certain of. He looked a bit sleep deprived and as if he hadn't combed his hair in several days, but other than that he appeared perfectly normal. He was actually smiling at them. He didn't look at all like a person who had spent their summer vacation grieving over a lost family member.

"We were worried," Hermione began, putting her arms around Harry and hugging him tightly. "We haven't heard a word from you in almost a month."

"Yeah, well, I've been busy with stuff," he explained, stepping back into his room.

Hermione and Ron exchanged quick looks with each other when Harry had his back turned. What could have been so important that he had been too busy to contact them? By the look Ron was sending her, he had come to the same conclusion as she had – Harry was lying.

"You didn't answer me. Why are you two here? You've never come to visit me before."

Now she did detect a hint of anger in his tone. "We want you to come back with us to Phoenix Headquarters – if that's what you want."

"So Dumbledore finally decided that I had enough punishment for one summer, is that it?"

She was stunned by his attitude. Harry had always had the utmost respect for Dumbledore. "Harry, your safety has always been Dumbledore's number one priority."

"Maybe he should stop worrying about me for a change and help someone else," he said bitterly. "Has he even bothered to try and clear Sirius' name now that everyone knows Voldemort is back?"

She saw the hurt and anguish blazing in his eyes and knew then what he had endured all summer was much worse then even she had imagined. "Harry, it's more complicated than that. He can't just go running to Fudge without evidence, and probably without revealing information about The Order in the process."

"Right, what was I thinking? He can protect Hogwarts and fight Voldemort, but it's asking too much to clear one innocent man's name," he said, his voice heavy with resentment.

She opened her mouth to press the matter, to tell him that if there was any chance Sirius's name could be cleared Dumbledore would be the first to do it, but Ron was silently shaking his head at her. The last thing they needed was to put Harry on the defensive and have him shut them out completely.

"Look, we didn't come all this way for nothing," Ron said finally. "We're not letting you rot in this place another day, so you better back up your trunk and come downstairs. Lupin and Tonks are in the car waiting."

Without waiting for Harry's response, he guided Hermione out of the room and in the direction of the stairs.

"You can't force Harry to come with us," she said to Ron in a hushed voice, in case Harry could overhear them. "You need to accept that maybe he would rather be here then at Grimmauld Place. It was Sirius's home. He may not be ready to deal with that just yet." They had not even brought up that Sirius had left Grimmauld Place to Harry because they hadn't known how he would react to that news.

"Well I sure as hell aren't going to let him stay here a second longer – and I don't see how you can either," Ron was saying, not bothering to lower his voice. "Busy my arse… I bet he's spent the last seven weeks locked in that room blaming himself for Sirius' death. I know we both agreed we wouldn't force him to talk about it," he added quickly when he saw she was about to interrupt him, "but he shouldn't be alone – not like this," he finished before starting down the staircase.

"Believe it or not, I'm not disagreeing with you. I just think you could have gone about it in a nicer way," she said, following after him.

"Next time I'll remember to give him some flowers and a kiss first," he remarked sarcastically. "I bet he'd love that."

She rolled her eyes at him, but refrained from saying anything further. She wasn't going to let him goad her into another fight when they still hadn't recovered from their last bout.

They stood together at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Harry. When she turned and looked out the kitchen window, she could see the three Dursley's huddled together, probably waiting for them to leave before they deemed it safe to enter their own house again. She looked away from them and back up the stairs. She was starting to wonder what they would do if Harry didn't want to leave, when he appeared on the top landing with Hedwig's cage in one hand and his trunk in the other. Ron went up to give him a hand with the trunk.

When they reached the bottom, Harry looked around and said, "Where is everyone?"

Hermione pointed to the window in the kitchen, where his aunt, uncle and cousin were huddled together watching them closely.

Not bothering to wave goodbye, Harry opened the front door and stepped outside, Ron right behind him holding the other end of his trunk.

Hermione stepped out last and closed the door behind them. They may have got Harry away from the Dursley's, but that wasn't going to make the rest of his problems go away. She hated to even think it, even if it was just to herself, but if past events were any indication she had a feeling things would get a lot worse for Harry before they got better.


	2. The Swimming Lesson

**CHAPTER TWO: The Swimming Lesson**

It was almost ten when Ron rolled over in bed and dared to crack open one eye to look at the clock on his nightstand. On a normal day, he would have rolled right back over and shut his eyes again, trying to grab as much extra sleep as he could. But Harry hadn't felt like staying up late the night before, and the two boys had been in their beds shortly before midnight.

Harry was still curled up in his bed facing the wall, while Ron, as quietly as he could, crossed the room and headed downstairs.

When he reached the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe and silently watched the only occupant inside make breakfast. Actually, _attempt_ might have been a better word to describe Hermione make tea and toast. The tea part seemed to be going all right, but she was spending so preoccupied with that she forgot about the toast. The smell of burnt toast filled his nostrils, and it seemed to grab Hermione's attention also for she promptly pushed the release button on the toast. Two blackened pieces of bread shot up.

"Damn," she muttered in annoyance, throwing the ruined pieces in the sink.

"Could you say that again? I didn't quite catch that."

She spun around to find Ron standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. Of course it would have to be him of all people catching her momentary lapse in appropriate language. All the times she had chided him for his cursing, he wasn't likely to let her forget this moment.

"That was quite a 'damn'," he said in admiration.

"You would have said the same if it had been your breakfast that was ruined," she said in her defense.

Ron walked around to the toaster and put in two fresh pieces of bread. "I suppose I'll just have to show you how it's done," he said smugly.

Instead of letting him goad her further, she sat down at the table with her mug of tea in hand. "You're up early," she remarked.

"You're up late," he shot back.

"I stayed up to finish my Arithmancy essay," she said, looking down at her tea as she spoke.

He could have very easily teased her about that, but he decided against it. It seemed like she was finally over the Krum thing and he wasn't in a hurry to have her stop talking to him again.

She regarded him curiously. "What, no snide remarks about staying up late during the summer holidays to finish homework?"

Was she testing him? "I don't _always_ have to tease you," he told her. He reached over and popped up the toast in the toaster. "Toasted to perfection," he said, and handed them to her on a plate.

She picked up a piece and began spreading marmalade over it. "How's Harry?"

"Still sleeping, I think. We didn't talk much last night." There it was again. He didn't know why but every time she brought Harry up, it bothered him somewhat. He knew it shouldn't, but they seemed to talk about him so often – or rather Hermione brought him up so often – he was starting to wonder if she fancied him or something. Yesterday at the Dursley's, he had watched her hug Harry, and to him it seemed to last a bit longer then other hugs she had given him in the past. If he allowed himself to admit it, perhaps he had been even a bit jealous.

"Maybe he'll feel better when we go into Diagon Alley today," she said brightly.

Ron shrugged again, but made no reply. He decided he was definitely reading too much into it. There was no way Hermione fancied Harry. Changing the subject he said, "so are you finally going to come swimming with me today?" So far, she had used every possible excuse since summer vacation had started to avoid going down to this small river that was about a ten minute walk away.

"No," she answered, before reaching for a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and reading the front page.

It was an act. He could see that her eyes weren't even skimming the page. She was jut hoping he would quit and leave it at that. "Are you really that scared I'm going to drown you or do some other horrible thing to you?"

"That's not it," she said, and her tone suggested that he should drop the subject if he knew what was good for him, but Ron rarely ever did what was good for him where she was concerned.

"What is it, then? I mean, we've got plenty of time because we weren't planning on going to Diagon Alley 'til after lunch anyways."

She mumbled some incoherent response and continued staring down at the paper.

"What did you say?" He asked, leaning in closer.

"I said I can't swim!" She all but shouted at him. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment when she realized how loud she had spoken. Ron tried, and failed to suppress a grin, making the situation worse. "See, this is why I didn't tell you. You think it's funny."

"I just think it's funny that for once you have something to learn from me, instead of it being the other way around."

When she realized he was serious, she quickly put an end to his delusions. "Ron, you are _not_ teaching me to swim."

"Come on, it would be fun."

"Fun for you," she corrected. "Humiliating for me."

"How about we make a deal? You let me teach you the finer points of swimming, and I'll start on my Transfiguration essay today, instead of on the train back to school like I was planning."

She should have said no, and that way at least retain some of her dignity. On the other hand, she had never backed down from a challenge before – and Ron had played right into that. "Fine, we have a deal," she said to him, already regretting she had agreed to this ridiculous idea, even more so when she saw the lopsided grin form on Ron's face. Just what exactly had she gotten herself into?

Exactly one hour later, they were dressed in their swimming gear underneath their regular clothes and standing at the edge of the small river. The whole walk over Ron had continued to think that this was a fantastic idea. He had discovered there was one thing Hermione couldn't do at all, and she was allowing herself to get help from him. He wasn't going to rub it in her face, but was glad that there was at least one thing a book couldn't teach her. Those were his thoughts up until the point where they started getting undressed to go into the water. Suddenly he wasn't so sure it was a good idea for them to be alone together. She was wearing a bathing suit Ginny had been given a few years ago, but it had been too big for her to wear. Ron was forever thankful his sister had not worn it because it would have ruined the mental picture he was taking of Hermione in it. He really didn't mean to ogle her like that, and he couldn't even believe he was admitting to himself that he was doing just that, but he couldn't help himself. He would have to have been blind not to notice the way she had filled out in certain areas. Then again, she was his best friend – he wasn't supposed to be noticing those kinds of things.

Before his staring became too noticeable (it was probably already too late for that) he ran into the cold water, and swam out to the part that was just deep enough so he could tread water without hitting his feet on the bottom. This was much better. He really needed to cool off. Pushing the hair back that had fallen in his eyes, he saw her at the edge of the water, testing it with one foot before jumping back.

"Are you coming in or not?" He called to her.

"It's freezing!" She exclaimed.

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Were you expecting it to be heated, just for you?" She shot him a glowering look and he pressed his advantage. "If you're too scared – "

As he had predicted, that was all it took for her to put aside whatever misgivings she was having and join him in the water.

He moved in closer so they were in shallower water and Hermione could stand in it. He being about half a foot taller, the water covered to a few inches above his waist.

"First things first," he said to her, "I'm going to teach you how to tread water." He was already moving back into the deeper water as he spoke. Hermione was looking extremely skeptical about this, so he extended his arm out to her. "Just take my hand and I promise I won't dunk your head under water – yet," he said, his face widening in a lopsided grin.

She threw him a look that said he would deeply regret it later if he even attempted it, but she took his outstretched hand all the same. As he started moving her into deeper waters where she could no longer see the bottom, she had to keep reminding herself that she trusted Ron and he wouldn't do anything that would put her in danger.

"Treading water is like riding that cycle thing muggles use," he told her.

"Bicycle," she corrected.

"Just tilt your head back a bit and start moving your legs," he told her, ignoring her correction. "Like this." He briefly demonstrated the technique and then said, "you think you've got it?"

She nodded. This was easy compared to some of the things she had to learn when she first started skiing, which she still wasn't very good at. She followed Ron's instructions, and in no time he was letting go of her hand and she was treading water on her own.

"Not bad," he complimented. "You're picking this up a lot faster then I did."

"Who taught you?" She asked, slightly out of breath from the exertion.

"Charlie," he answered. "But it wasn't really teaching so much as it was throwing me in the water and seeing if I'd come back up."

"Ron!" She found herself, trying to stifle her laughter at the thought.

"I think it must have been a lesson in survival of the fittest or something."

She was wondering if he was pulling her leg, trying to get a rise out of her, but then again it did seem entirely plausible that Charlie would do that to his youngest brother. She was sure Ron had left out the part where he had been right there in case anything happened.

"Are your legs tired yet?"

"I'm fine," she told him. The truth was her legs were beginning to feel like rubber, but she could handle it.

His expression showed that he didn't believe her. "This is your first time, so we should probably take it easy."

"Ron, I can do this, okay? I'm fine," she said, her tone firm. She probably should have listened to him. Her legs were beginning to cramp up.

He scowled. "Dammit, why do you have to be so bloody stubborn?"

That was when her legs gave out beneath her and she went under. Water was all around her, trapping her as she flailed her arms in an attempt to get back to the surface. Before the full force of panic and fear could set in, she felt herself being pulled up. She spit out the mouthful of water she had nearly swallowed and coughed several times. It took nearly a full minute before she was finally able to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded because for some reason she couldn't seem to find her voice. She had been so focused on being able to breathe again, it wasn't until that moment she noticed the position she and Ron were in. His arms were holding onto her waist and her arms were wrapped around his neck. They were extremely close, so close that she could feel his breath on her face every time he breathed. They had never been this close before. She studied his cobalt eyes, seeing the concern playing across them. "Thanks," she said, almost surprised to hear herself talking. The gentleness and concern that had been in his eyes a moment before, melted away. Now, they were blazing with anger.

"I know you have to be the bloody-well best at everything but that was just stupid," he snapped at her.

"Ron, I'm sorry," she apologized.

That did little to calm him. "What's wrong with you? I wouldn't have thought any less of you if you had just admitted you were tired."

She had not seen him like this before. She thought he was more upset with her now then he had ever been in the past, but it had little to with anger. He was concerned for her, and it was affecting her more than she thought it would.

"We should go back," he growled, looking away from her.

That was when she did something completely unexpected that surprised even herself. She removed one hand from around his neck and touched his cheek with it. That was enough to bring Ron's head back around without any further prodding.

"I'm really sorry." Even as she was saying it, she felt one hand move from her waist up to her back. The palm of his hand started drawing circle patterns on her back, and she let her eyes flutter shut. It didn't seem to matter that it was Ron who was touching her. Ron, her best friend. Ron, who had helped save her from a troll when they were eleven. Ron, who was making her feel this good. It was all new to her. He was causing feelings to stir in her that she had long since kept hidden.

"Hermione," he breathed.

She dared to open her eyes and forced herself to look straight at him. The fury in his eyes was gone, but she couldn't read the expression on his face. He was looking at her in a way he never had before. She was waiting for him to say something – anything – to break the silence. She saw him look at her mouth and then his gaze dart back up to her eyes. Time seemed to tick by ever so slowly, with just the two of them wading alone in the water. When she caught Ron looking at her mouth again, her mind finally seemed to comprehend what was happening.

Then something happened that caused Ron's whole attitude to change. He cleared his throat in a nervous gesture, saying, "we should probably head back now."

She barely managed a nod of her head, as she felt Ron's hands slip from around her waist as he guided them both back to the shore. They dried off in silence, which was perfectly fine with Hermione. She didn't think she would have been able to speak to Ron at the moment if her life depended on it. But the silence that accompanied them on their walk back to Grimmauld Place, was the most awkward and uncomfortable she had ever experienced in her life. She could say with certainty it was a swimming lesson she wouldn't soon forget.


	3. Breaking Free

CHAPTER THREE: Breaking Free

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was silent for the first time since Harry had discovered it's existence the summer before. He was actually surprised that no one was around to check on him. Even more surprising was that Ron had risen before him. He hoped Ron hadn't noticed the fitful night he had. Then again, Ron was a naturally deep sleeper so he probably hadn't. The dreams refused to let up and he was lucky to get five hours of uninterrupted sleep a night.

He really hadn't meant to worry his friends, but he had stopped writing them partway through the summer because he didn't know what else to say to them. He thought once he was under the Dursley's rule for a few weeks, his mind would drift away from the events of the previous school year. He was doing all right until his birthday came around and realized there would be no gift from his godfather this year. Where he should have been sad, he only felt anger. Everyone was expecting him to go through the grieving process, but he couldn't even do that right. Instead of knowing Sirius Black his whole life like he should have, his godfather had spent the majority of it locked away in Azkaban prison. Just when they were on the verge of really getting to know each other, he had ruined everything. Hermione had been dead on when she had said he had a hero complex. Every time someone was in danger, he had to be the one to come charging in. The worst part of all – and the reason he blamed himself for Sirius' death – was he could have prevented it. If he had put serious effort into his Occlumency lessons with Snape, Voldemort would no longer have been able to see into his mind and plant those images of Sirius in danger.

That was the cause for the dreams he'd been having. The ones that always ended the same way. Sirius rushing in to rescue him and then falling through that veil. Since that was how it had ended in reality, he knew it would never change in his dreams. It was his punishment for killing his godfather.

"Harry?"

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of Remus Lupin's voice. Harry walked further ahead and found his professor sitting in a ragged looking armchair in the den. He looked the way Harry felt. His face was haggard and drawn. He had even spotted a few more gray hairs. The full moon had to be close, at least within a day or two.

"Where is everyone?"

"I believe Molly and Ginny went to pick up a few things from the store. I don't know where Ron or Hermione went off to, but I'm sure they'll be back soon," he added, seeing the look of apprehension on Harry's face. "Let's just hope it's before Molly, otherwise Ron's going to have some serious explaining to do. I don't envy him if that happens." He looked at Harry still hanging back in the door frame and said, "you can come in, Harry. I won't bite – at least not for another forty eight hours," he joked. It helped to joke about his Lycanthropy on occasion. It sometimes helped others feel more at ease around him. "I know I must look rather dreadful, but that always happens so close to a full moon."

Harry stepped in the room and sat down from his professor on a nearby chair. "Do you need anything?"

"I was going to ask you that same question," said Lupin. Harry gave him a blank store and he continued. "I imagine you spent quite a bit of time alone while at your Uncle's house."

"Nothing I'm not used to," Harry stated. In truth, he found it preferable then being forced to be in the same room as the Dursley's.

"Dumbledore wanted to make sure you were safe. Until the extra safety measures were put in place, he didn't want to take a chance in bringing you here."

"Did he even bother to tell me he was doing that? No, I just got shoved off to the Dursley's like always. I don't even get a say in what goes on and it's my life. I'm really sick and tired of everyone treating me like some stupid kid, when I've been through more than most of them." He realized then he had been shouting, but Lupin didn't look angry. He looked sympathetic. Normally Harry hated being given looks of sympathy because they tended to be laced with pity, but there was no pity in Lupin's gaze.

"I remember being sixteen quite well," he said thoughtfully. "You think you're ready to face the world and everything it can throw at you, but you're really not. Harry, I know what you've seen and experienced, and I think that's all the more reason why everyone – the Weasley's, Dumbledore, and sometimes even myself – want to protect you from it. You've had to grow up without really getting the chance to grow up. But there's only so much we can shelter you from, and Dumbledore knows that. You'll have to make decisions that no one should have to make, and none of us will be able to interfere in them."

He almost wished Lupin hadn't given him that little speech. He was enjoying feeling angry.

"Have you been thinking about the prophecy?"

He shrugged. "There's not much to think about, is there? I have to kill Voldemort or be killed. It's simple."

"Not all prophecies turn out to be true, Harry. We all make our own choices and craft our own destinies."

"Do you really believe that about mine?"

"I think given everything that's happened up until now, there's a good chance it will come true."

At least Lupin had given him an honest answer. There was at least one adult in his life that would give him a truthful response.

"Have you told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy?"

"No, not yet."

"When you do tell them, they'll take it better than you think," Lupin told him.

He nodded and then stood as if to leave, but Lupin stopped him when he was halfway to the door.

"I know you hate the Occlumency lessons with Severus, but they're important, Harry. You should start them again as soon as possible."

He suppressed a groan. Hate didn't describe the feelings he had in connection with Snape and Occlumency lessons. Snape would undoubtedly find some way to break into his mind and make him feel worse then he already did.

"I talked with Dumbledore before you arrived and told him I believed it would be in your best interest if maybe you worked with someone else. It might help your progress. I may have overstepped my bounds in doing so but I suggested myself for the job."

Harry cracked a genuine smile, the first in weeks. "Really?"

"Before you say yes, it's only fair to tell you I'm not nearly as gifted in Occlumency as Professor Snape. I might actually end up hindering your progress rather than helping."

"I want to work with you," Harry stated adamantly.

Lupin beamed. "Then we'll get started on Friday. By then I'll be completely recovered from my transformation."

Just as he was thinking It was the best news he had received all summer, Lupin spoke again, and the excitement he was feeling at having Lupin as his professor again, even if it was just for Occlumency, quickly vanished.

"I'm not sure if you know this but Sirius left Grimmauld Place to you. This house is legally yours, Harry."

Harry's expression was unreadable. "The Order might as well keep using it because I don't want it." There was nothing he wanted less than to be in possession of a house that Sirius had grown up in and spent the last few months of his life in. One of the worst memories he had was of Kreacher answering his calls for Sirius when he had used the fireplace in Umbridge's office to make sure he was safe after his _vision_ and telling him his godfather was gone, when Sirius had really been upstairs tending to an injured Buckbeak.

As it was, he hadn't even been at Phoenix headquarters a day and he already felt like he was drowning in the memories of Sirius, and the guilt that had gnawed away at him all summer was worse than ever before. The only consolation was that Lupin wasn't forcing the issue of his ownership of the Black house. It almost seemed like he had been expecting that to be his answer.

It was then Ron came walking in followed closely by Hermione. Their hair was soaked and their clothes were almost just as wet.

"What happened to you two?" Harry asked, glad for the distraction.

"We just went for a swim," Ron answered.

"Ah, I should have guessed that," said Lupin with a knowing smile.

Hermione placed one hand on her hip and looked accusingly at Ron. "_You _said Professor Lupin knew where we were going and that it was all right." She did not sound at all impressed by his deception.

"I knew you never would have agreed to it if we didn't have some sort of adult permission," he said in his defense. He looked to Harry and then to Lupin for support.

"You both should dry off before Molly gets back and sees you," Lupin said with a chuckle, in an effort to come to Ron's aid.

Ron looked positively mortified at the prospect of his mum finding out, but even as fast as he moved, Hermione was still the first one out of the den.

"Oh come on, you're not going to get mad at me about this, are you?" He said to her retreating back. "Even if you won't admit it, I know you had a good time," he added as an afterthought.

She couldn't turn around and face him, and it had nothing to do with being angry with him – it was quite the opposite. If he saw her face he would see how badly she was blushing.

"I'm not mad," she said, keeping her back to him.

He was fast, and with a few quick leaps forward he was standing in front of her. "That might be more convincing if you'd look at me while you said it."

He was playing with her. He knew why she wouldn't look at him. When did Ron get so perceptive? She soon realized their positions were coming dangerously close to what they had been like in the water. But she backed away from him in an instant when she saw Harry emerge from the den. She announced loud enough for the both of them to hear that she was going upstairs to shower. Then she quickly climbed the stairs and disappeared.

"Is she mad at you?" Harry asked from behind Ron.

"I don't think so," he replied, still watching the stairs. He wasn't sure what they were at the moment, but things were definitely getting confusing.

Harry hadn't really felt up to going to Diagon Alley, but Ron had wanted to check out the latest Quidditch equipment for the upcoming season, especially for Keepers. Harry had received a letter from the school during the first week of summer stating that his ban from Quidditch was over. The upcoming school year had been looking bleak indeed until his lifetime ban had been lifted. He was sure Dumbledore had pulled a few strings to make it happen, but strangely enough he didn't feel indebted to the Headmaster for it.

Even stranger, Hermione, who never passed on a chance to visit Flourish and Blotts had tried to skive off going, saying she had too much work too do. Finally, after much persuasion, he and Ron had convinced her to come along. What he did notice was she and Ron made a point of not looking at each other for too long. Even after knowing them for this long, he still couldn't wrap his head around how they could fight so much and remain such good friends. But of all the rows they had gotten into over the time he had known them, the one in third year had been by far the worst. They had gone something like three months without speaking to each other because Ron had thought Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers. He never wanted to experience that again, being caught in the middle of one of their private wars.

They were in Diagon Alley now, and although Harry was doing his best not to stand out, people recognized him, even from halfway down the road. These same people who had ridiculed him and thought him starving for attention all of last year, were now watching him with mildly fearful expressions. Some didn't even have the courtesy to lower their voices as they talked about him loudly while he walked past. The only thing that had not changed was he was still the most talked about person in the wizarding world, only instead of people calling him crazy they were talking about what kind of hidden powers he had and that He Who Must Not Be Named must want whatever he possessed desperately in order to risk breaking into the Ministry. He blocked most of out effortlessly. He had grown so tired of people discussing his life, making wild theories and accusations when they knew nothing about him. It was much harder to ignore the changes in Diagon Alley because they were staring him straight in the face wherever he looked.

Aurors were patrolling up and down the streets, wands out in their hands. Parents kept their children close by, and many were walking with one hand in their pocket in case the need arose to draw their wand. No one seemed to dawdle by shop windows or stay in one spot for too long. They passed by shopkeepers who were only allowing a specified number of people into their shop at a time. The hours of operation for most businesses had changed significantly as well, with most closing by seven o'clock at the latest. It was a completely different Diagon Alley Harry was used to seeing. Everyone seemed to be taking Voldemort's return to the extreme. The rumours that the Dementors had switched their allegiances to Voldemort only served to intensify everyone's already heightened sense of fear.

That sense of fear spiked in Harry then. He didn't want to alarm Ron or Hermione, but he had been keeping an eye on two wizards who had been following them since they left the Leaky Cauldron. They kept a fair amount of distance back, pretending to window shop or converse with each other, but he had a gut feeling they were being followed. If they quickened their pace, there was a chance they could lose the tailing wizards. Since the crowd in Diagon Alley was the smallest he had ever seen it, it would prove to be more difficult to slip away without being seen.

"Harry, slow down!" Hermione called after him, as he started to speed up to the point where he was almost running.

"What's the rush, mate?" Ron asked, when they had caught up with him.

"We're being followed," he said as quietly as he could, but still loud enough that his friends would hear him. He was expecting to see some form of anxiety or fear spread across their faces, but all they did was exchange knowing looks with the other. "What's going on?"

"Look, we didn't want to tell you because we knew you'd get upset."

He looked from Ron to Hermione but their expressions revealed nothing. "What would I get upset about? Ron, what the hell is going on?"

"The two wizards following us are Aurors. They were hand picked by Moody," Hermione said in Ron's place. "There's probably members from the Order around here too."

Harry was furious. "There's been someone following us since we left the house, hasn't there?"

"Harry, it was the condition if we wanted to leave Grimmauld Place," Hermione said in an effort to calm him.

"You both knew about this?" He fumed. "And you didn't think to tell me?" Harry turned and started walking without waiting for an answer. It was bad enough that every adult he knew – with the exception of Lupin – thought he needed round the clock protection, now his best friends were in on it as well. Hermione and Ron fell into step beside him and he vented his frustration on them. "I'm not some fucking invilad. It anyone paid attention they would know I can handle myself. I don't need a twenty-four hour babysitter."

Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around. "So we should all sit back and do nothing, is that it, Harry? Voldemort's coming for you, but we'll all back off because you think you can handle him yourself. Are you looking to get yourself killed? Because that's exactly what's going to happen if you keep this up. So I'm really sorry that there's people who care about you and what to prevent that from happening."

Her voice was carrying so much, that everyone in the nearby vicinity who had not been staring at him before had stopped to listen. At Hermione's mention of Voldemort's name, the whispering and terrified looks increased, even more so because she had mentioned the Dark Lord by name.

"Hermione – "

Ron tried to intervene on Harry's behalf but she would have none of it. "I'm going to Flourish and Blotts, and when you decide to stop being a selfish idiot," she said, glaring pointedly at Harry, "come and find me." She turned on her heel and walked off, without so much as glance at either one of them.

He had never before been on the receiving end of her temper like that, and it made him feel horrible because she was right. "Let's get out of here," he said to Ron, desperate to be out of the prying eyes of the public. They hurried down the street and eventually were able to mingle with the crowd enough that they no longer stood out.

"She's blown up at me loads of times, and it only lasts a few days at most," Ron said in attempt to make him feel better. "Before you came, she only had me to boss around all summer. I think all the power's finally gone to her head."

They were right outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, when Harry said, "do you agree with Hermione?" Even before Ron answered, his hesitation told Harry everything he needed.

"We're your best friends, and if you can't see that we're on your side…" He trailed off unfinished, not sure what else to say.

"I don't have a death wish," Harry stated, and then walked inside the store.

Ron followed, wondering just who Harry was trying to convince with that statement.

They finally dared to meet up with Hermione at Flourish and Blotts some time later. She had calmed down considerably, which Ron attributed to her being alone with all those ruddy books for so long. She agreed to go with them to Florean Fortesque's Ice-Cream Parlour, and Ron thought maybe she and Harry would makeup, but they refused to even look at each other. Ron was starting to wonder if this was what Harry felt like every time he and Hermione would get into an argument. It was not a pleasant feeling being stuck in the middle, and having each one talk solely to him as if the other person was not present. It wasn't helping that Harry kept glancing around every few seconds, looking for Aurors or Order members watching them.

"Maybe there's a way we could get away from them," Ron suggested, when Harry looked over his shoulder for the hundredth time since they had sat down. Hermione shot him a warning look, but he pretended to ignore it. He had Harry's attention though. "If we split up they can't follow all three of us."

"No, they'll all follow me," said Harry darkly.

"You don't know that there's only two watching us," Hermione pointed out. "There could be plenty more that they didn't tell us about in case we tried something like that."

"I must be hearing things because it sounds to me like you're actually considering my suggestion," said Ron.

She pretended to look offended. She had to keep up the act that she was the reasonable one of the group after all. "There's a reason all these safety measures have been put in place."

"I know you've been wanting to visit your parents and this could be the perfect opportunity."

He knew how badly she missed her parents and he was using that against her. But just as there were measures put in place to protect Harry, the same had been done to protect her mum and dad. Nevertheless, the chance to see her parents was too good to pass up.

"If we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," she said, and she was speaking to the both of them now. Ron was giving her an 'I knew you wanted to break the rules' grin, and she had to fight down the urge to grin back. He would never let her live it down if he knew she was actually enjoying plotting their escape. She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "how far is Fred and George's shop from here?"

"Maybe about a five minute walk," Ron answered. "Why?"

"I think it's time we finally stopped by their new shop and said hello."

Since Fred and George left Hogwarts, and even before then, they had been developing a catalogue of nasty surprises and trick items – and had made quite a bit of money off of them. Now that they had accumulated quite a fair bit of wealth – thanks to Harry's tri wizard winnings – they were renting out one of the vacant shops in Diagon Alley to sell their joke paraphernalia. Their business was one of the few shops unaffected by Voldemort's return. It seemed that now more than ever people were looking for ways to take their minds off of what was going on, and went better way to do it then with hundreds of possible gag items, even some that had very nasty side effects.

She, Harry and Ron had ventured inside, and in the event that someone had followed them in it would have been extremely hard to keep track of the trio with all the patrons inside. There seemed to be more people crowded in the one shop then all of Diagon Alley. Young shoppers were enthusiastically testing and purchasing the latest joke gadgets. None seemed to mind when their hair changed colour or they sprouted nasty warts all over their hands. They just swallowed or sprayed an antidote and tried it again. Business was definitely booming for the twins.

Fred and George were ecstatic to see them. They had avoided Grimmauld Place for much of the summer, mainly because Mrs. Weasley was still furious they had not finished their final year at Hogwarts. They only stopped by for Order meetings now that they were of legal age and could join. Mrs. Weasley was a clever witch and had put a spell on the parchment the twins had signed to make them official members. If they discussed anything to do with the Order to non-members they would receive a rather nasty rash that would spread all over the bodies. Fred and George being who they were, had taken it upon themselves to try and break the curse. As soon as they did, the twins promised to tell them what they had been privileged to at Order meetings. Hermione didn't think that they should, but she kept that thought to herself. Besides, she was rather eager to know what was going on.

When they told the twins of their problem, Fred and George were only too happy to help. They gave them exactly what they would need free of charge – a Weasley on the house special – and then let them out through the door in the storage room, where all the extra stock was kept.

With the twins help, they escaped Diagon Alley and slipped into the muggle world unnoticed. The twins had somehow managed to develop the Polyjuice potion in pill form – it lasted twice as long in that state they told them. They had given Ron, Harry, and Hermione three capsules each. One would turn them into a non-descript person from the wizarding world, and the second was to change them into muggle teenagers quite different from themselves until they got a safe distance from the Leaky Cauldron. The ingenious part was you didn't have to wait for one disguise to wear off before you took the next pill and changed into someone different. The third and final pill would turn them back to their original form before their disguises wore off.

"Isn't it illegal to sell the Polyjuice potion?" Harry asked, once they were themselves again walking through the streets of London.

"Of course it is," Ron replied. "You would have a bunch of people running around with multiple identities. But Fred and George aren't stupid. They would never sell it to the public. The stuff they gave us was from their own private stash."

"We should have asked what they use it for," said Hermione.

Ron snorted. "Not like they would have told us. Those two have more secrets than the Department of Mysteries."

Ron's mentioning of the Department of Mysteries brought to mind the prophecy – something Harry didn't want to think about right then. "How much farther?" He asked her.

"It's just the next street over," she answered. Even going through everything they had to get to their place of destination, she and Harry still had not made up completely. She really hadn't meant to make a scene in Diagon Alley, but she felt that was the only way to get through to him. Maybe the two of them could talk it over later.

"This looks a lot like your neighbourhood, Harry," Ron observed, seeing the decent sized houses and expensive cars sitting in the driveways.

"Trust me, Ron, no one could be as particular as my Aunt. She's obsessed with keeping things orderly."

"See, that's my house. We're here," Hermione announced.

Her house was definitely one of the nicer ones on the street – and that was saying something considering how well done up the houses around it were. Ron didn't know what make of car was sitting in her driveway but it looked brand new.

"So Harry and I have a bet going," Ron said as they neared closer. "I say there's two hundred books in you room and he's guessing one fifty, so which one of us is right?"

She recognized what he was doing – besides trying to get a rise out of her. He was hoping to ease the tension between her and Harry. He was being a good friend and it made her realize she didn't want to fight with Harry anymore. She wanted to be on good terms with him when they saw her parents. She was about to turn around and smooth things over with him, when something glistening on her front door caught her eye that made the blood in her veins freeze. In red, glossy letters the word 'Mudblood' was painted across the door. The crimson colour looked like it might have been blood.

It was either Ron or Harry who grabbed her from behind to stop her, and despite that they were quite a lot stronger then her, she somehow managed to push them off and charge forward. The boys ran after her, but she had already taken out her wand and pushed the front door open…


	4. A Complicated Friendship

CHAPTER FOUR: A Complicated Friendship

There were only a few things in the wizarding world that terrified Harry, and during situations like the one he was in right now, Molly Weasley was one of them. He was in as much trouble as Ron, but because Ron was her son he was bearing the brunt of her temper. For the last ten minutes, they had been standing in the dining room area of Grimmauld Place listening to Mrs. Weasley lecture them about the stupidity of their actions.

"I thought that maybe you, Ronald Weasley had more sense then what you showed today," Mrs. Weasley was shouting at her son. "Alastor had the Aurors put in place for _your_ protection _and_ Harry's. It was beyond foolish for all of you to go sneaking off like you did. I'm going to have a talk with him, since the Aurors can't even seem to keep track of three teenagers. It's a wonder they're still able to keep all those prisoners in Azkaban."

Harry and Ron exchanged quick looks while Mrs. Weasley was distracted. If Ron's mum ever knew the truth, not only would their lives be over but so would Fred and George's.

Mrs. Weasley continued to shake her head in frustration. "And then running into that house like you did. What were you thinking? You didn't know what kind of dangers could have been in there."

"It's not Ron or Harry's fault, Mrs. Weasley. They were only following after me," Hermione spoke up in her friend's defense. She had been extremely quiet since returning to the house.

Mrs. Weasley's features softened considerably. "Hermione dear, I don't blame you. You reacted the way any of us would have. I'm just glad that you're all safe."

Upon entering the Granger home they had found Hermione's parents lying face down in the kitchen. They weren't dead, just unconscious. They had been hit with a stunning spell at close range. By the time the St. Mungo's medics had arrived, Harry and Ron had thoroughly searched the entire house and found no one, not even any evidence to suggest there had been an intruder, with the exception of the word 'Mudblood' painted across the outside of the front door. There were ways to use magic to detect if anyone else had entered the home recently, but that was beyond their capabilities. That would be a job for the Magical Law Enforcement Squad.

The Granger's had been revived upon reaching St. Mungo's and all the magical ailment tests performed showed that they had indeed just been stunned and that there shouldn't be any lasting effects. They were still being kept overnight to be on the safe side. The only thing they could remember about the intruders was they wore long dark robes and masks that hid their faces. Death Eaters had been in their home. That knowledge alone sickened Hermione almost as much as what had been done to her parents. She would never be able to think about her home again without picturing Death Eaters surrounding her defenseless parents in the kitchen and then cursing them for no other reason then because of who she was.

"It's late. Why don't you go upstairs and try to get some rest?" Mrs. Weasley was saying to Hermione. "I promise if Arthur calls with any news I'll wake you."

Hermione didn't look like she would be able to sleep, but she muttered a quiet goodnight to everyone before trudging up the stairs to her room.

Ron tried to follow after her, but his mother stopped him. "I think you boys should leave her alone for tonight. She's been through a horrible ordeal and should really get some rest. You can talk to her all you want in the morning."

After that she let them go, but not without giving Ron a look that said she wasn't through with him. In the morning he had a feeling he would be facing some pretty hefty punishment.

When he and Harry reached the second landing he was tempted to ignore his mother's request and knock on Hermione's door. He stopped himself when he saw there was no light coming from beneath her door. He didn't think she would be asleep, but she probably wasn't up for talking to anyone, so he followed Harry into his own room next to hers.

When he walked in, Harry was sitting on his cot against the wall, with his elbows on his knees, running his fingers through his hair.

Ron sat down on his own bed across from him. "You okay?"

Harry gave a short bitter laugh before straightening and facing him. "I'm great, except for the fact that I almost got Hermione's parents killed today."

Ron had known this was coming. "No one blames you. This wasn't your fault."

"I really wish everyone would stop saying that and let me take responsibility for once."

"Do you really want to be blamed for everything that goes wrong?" Ron asked him.

"I want to be held accountable for the things that are _my_ fault," he said to him. "And what happened today never would have happened if Hermione wasn't connected to me."

Ron let out a snort. "Yeah, I'm sure that argument will hold up real well with her."

"You don't get it," said Harry frustrated. "Today was just a warning. Why else would they have left them alive when they could have just as easily killed them. Next time…"

"There won't be a next time, all right? The Order's already looking into locating them somewhere safe."

"It might not be enough."

"Would you stop talking like that?" Ron yelled at him, rapidly losing his temper. He stabbed an angry finger at the wall. "Hermione's right beside us and can probably hear every word your saying. She doesn't need to listen to this shit." He realized that by raising his voice she could probably hear him as well. "You've got to stop this whole guilt trip thing you're doing to yourself. Look at what it's doing to you. You're turning into this person I don't even know, and I'm not even sure I want to. I know you've been through hell," he said, letting his voice drop, "and I can't even begin to understand what you're going through by losing Sirius, but I'm your best friend and so is Hermione, so if you want to talk we'll listen."

"Thanks, but I don't really need to talk about Sirius," said Harry, stiffly.

"I think you do. Maybe you'd feel a whole lot better if you did, instead of pretending that it didn't happen."

"Maybe you should mind your own damn business," Harry snapped. Without another word he flopped down on his bed still dressed and turned on his side so his back was to Ron.

Ron threw himself down on his own bed in a similar fashion. He seemed to understand Harry less and less these days. He couldn't even begin to fathom what Harry was dealing with, not just with his godfather but with everything else going on. He just wished his friend stop being stubborn for two seconds and realize that he didn't have to go through any of it alone.

In the morning, Ron discovered just how right he was about his punishment. His mother had woken him and Harry up at exactly eight o'clock. Hermione was already gone by then. She and Tonks had left at the same time as his father, so they could arrive at St. Mungo's right at the start of visiting hours. Ron wished he could have gone with her – and it wasn't just so he could escape punishment.

His mother had wanted them to do some late spring cleaning to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, which it really didn't need because he knew she had just given it a thorough tidying up two weeks earlier. She still found odd jobs for them to regardless, and being unable to use magic, made it twice as hard and twice as long. They spent the morning cleaning out the attic, which looked like it hadn't been touched since before Dumbledore was born. By having his sleep interrupted Ron was jus as grumpy as Harry. So to avoid snapping each other's heads off before the day was through, they only spoke when it was necessary.

By late afternoon, he was thoroughly exhausted, but he and Harry still had about half the furniture in the living room to move around. His mother had thought it would brighten up the room by changing the scenery. Of course that had nothing to do with it. She was just running out of chores to give them.

The front door opened around four, but Ron paid no attention to it as people came and went regularly at Phoenix headquarters. When he heard his mother's voice and another female's conversing, he quickly recognized it as Hermione's. By the time he poked his head around the corner, she was already taking the stairs up.

His mother saw him and asked, "all finished, Ron?"

"Almost," he lied and went back to helping Harry.

Another thirty minutes and they were finally done. Mrs. Weasley came to see how they faired, giving the room a thorough inspection before it got her approval.

"I still don't understand why Ginny couldn't give us a hand," Ron complained.

"She wasn't the one who broke all the rules we had in place for the summer," Mrs. Weasley was quick to remind him.

"Right, she just stays up in her room writing letters to that boyfriend of hers," he said in mild disgust.

"That Dean Thomas sounds like a nice boy. And he's a friend of yours, isn't he? I would have thought you'd be a little more happy that your sister was with someone you trust."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Are we done here?" It was going to take until dinnertime if she kept inspecting every inch of the room as she was currently doing.

After a moment's consideration, she turned to the both of them. "Yes, it looks fine," she told them. "Thank you for all your hard work today."

They trudged upstairs, sweaty and dirty, Ron agreeing to let Harry shower first because he wanted to check in on Hermione. He knocked on her door and after an extended pause, a voice said come in. He opened the door and found her scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. She stopped when she saw him standing there.

"How are your parents?"

"They're fine," she replied. "The doctors want to keep them overnight again just as a precaution."

She tried to look happy, but he saw through it. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine, I just have a lot of work to get through in the next few days." She gestured to the open books on the desk in front of her.

Homework was the last thing that should be on her mind. "Why don't you take a break? The world's not going to end if you don't finish it all tonight."

"I can't. I don't know how long I'll be at St. Mungo's tomorrow." It was a lie. She would be at the wizarding hospital for a few hours at most. After that her parents were being taken to a safe house somewhere that only a handful of people knew about. She wasn't even allowed to know the location.

"What's really bothering you?" He asked perceptively.

She was tempted to yell at him that it was none of his business, but she didn't want to pick a fight with him. He was waiting patiently for her to speak, and she knew he wasn't going to leave until she confessed what was eating away at her. "They were attacked because I'm their daughter."

"Hermione, you can't really believe that," he said in response to that accusation on herself.

"It's the truth," she stated, unwaveringly. "And if I hadn't wasted time scolding you for wanting to sneak away from the Aurors, maybe we could have gotten there in time."

This was insane. She was beginning to sound as guilt-ridden as Harry. He wasn't going to make it through the year if they both kept this up. "You don't know that. Dad told me the head investigator said they could have been like that for hours." He refrained from saying that if they had gotten there earlier the situation could have ended up a lot worse.

"But they don't know that for sure," she insisted.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy doing this."

She surprised him then by getting up and shutting the door to her room. What she was about to tell him, she didn't want anybody else to overhear. She sat down on her bed and folded her hands in her lap. "At the start of the summer your dad arranged it so I could meet with my parents for a few hours. I thought it was just so that I could be allowed to see them, but it was because they wanted to pull me out of Hogwarts." Ron did a sharp intake of breath but he remained silent so she could continue. "They knew everything that had happened during the school year. They may not have understood it all but the way they saw it was I would be in a lot of danger when I returned to Hogwarts in September."

Ron started pacing. He couldn't believe she hadn't mentioned anything before now. Maybe they could have done something, but with the new school year so close it might be too late. "So they pulled you out, just like that? How could you not say anything?"

"Ron, please let me finish," she said patiently. "They wanted to pull me out but they didn't because Dumbledore managed to talk them out of it. He assured them of my safety, but after what they've been through they may end up changing their minds."

Ron seated himself on the bed beside her, still in shock from her revelation. "But they didn't say anything about it when you visited them, right?"

"No."

"So then there's nothing to get worked up about. We'll start school in a few days and everything will be fine," he said as if that settled the matter.

"Everything's not fine, Ron," she said, staring down at her hands. "I should have been there to protect them. I should have said something to Dumbledore or your dad that they would be safer somewhere else."

"Hermione – "

"And don't tell me not to blame myself," she said, looking up at him, her eyes full of tears. "Because you don't know what's it like to walk into your own home and find your parents facedown and spend that split second thinking they're dead." The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She knew very well Ron had experienced a similar thing a few months back when Harry had that vision of his father. For a short time they hadn't known if he was dead or alive. "Ron, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

He didn't look angry at all. "It's okay. I know I've said a lot more stupid things then that to you over the years," he said smiling slightly. She was wiping at her eyes and he knew he should probably do something to comfort her. He had always felt awkward around girls when they got emotional and never knew what he was supposed to say, and when he did say something it usually came out sounding all wrong. Not sure what else to do, he put his arm around her. She responded by moving closer and resting her head on his shoulder. It was the strangest sensation for Ron. For something he thought would be totally weird and awkward, having his arm around Hermione like that felt like the most natural thing in the world. He caught himself thinking about yesterday at the river and mentally kicked himself for it. He shouldn't even be thinking that right now, except he couldn't help it. He had wanted to kiss her for ages and he had blown his one chance to do so because he lost his nerve at the last second. He could face down Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic but he couldn't even kiss the girl who knew him better than he knew himself.

Hermione felt his change in posture and removed her head from his shoulder. "What is it?" She could swear he was blushing.

"Maybe you should lie down for a bit before dinner," he said quickly. "You probably didn't sleep much last night."

"No, not really."

He stood up. "Well, I'll go now and I'll see you at dinner."

"You don't have to go."

His eyes widened for a split second while the implication of what she said sunk in. She looked just as stunned as him, and she didn't know what had come over her to even suggest that. She knew she must have been blushing horribly. Luckily her face was still red from crying so it didn't show.

She wasn't really aware of what was happening until it was too late to change any of it. Ron was lying on his back on top of the comforter beside her, and she on her side facing the direction away from him. She found herself hoping he would crack a joke or make some sarcastic remark that was so characteristic of him, anything that would ease the awkwardness she was feeling at having Ron lying on the same bed as her. But he was quiet, and the only sounds coming from him were his breathing. She closed her eyes realizing that of her own doing she had managed to make things between them a lot more complicated.

When Hermione awoke sometime later, something felt different then when she had first fallen asleep. It did not take her long to figure out what it was. When she looked down she saw Ron's arm draped around her waist. He must have fallen asleep too, at least that was the explanation she was sticking to for how has hand ended up where it was. She felt his breath on her neck every time he breathed. She closed her eyes. She was trying to think about why she shouldn't have let this happen, but it didn't take long for her mind to get sidetracked and think she was glad it had. She tried pushing those thoughts out of her head because no good could come from them, but it was hard when she was lying next to him as close as she was. It was all just really confusing everything that had happened in the last few days and the whole summer for that matter. It was not the first time she had come to the realization that things were changing between them. When she allowed herself, even for the briefest of seconds, to actually consider the possibility of what was happening it managed to both exhilarate and frighten her at the same time.

"Hermione, mum says dinner's ready," Ginny's voice sounded from outside her door.

Hermione felt her heart rate quicken. It wasn't as if they had been doing anything wrong, but the last thing she wanted was for Ginny to see them in their current positions. Yet as quickly as she tried untangling herself from Ron, it wasn't fast enough.

Ginny knocked and then slowly opened the door. "If you don't want to come down, I could bring something – whoa! Oh my god!"

Ron was fully awake then and he and Hermione scrambled to sit up.

"Haven't you heard of knocking?" Ron growled at her.

"I did knock," she said innocently.

"Did you think to wait for a response before barging in?"

"I can't believe this." She had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing.

"Ginny, get out!" Ron roared at her, jumping to his feet.

Hermione moved faster then him, making it to his sister before he could throw her out. "What you walked in on – what you saw – it's nothing. We both fell asleep," she tried to explain.

"I could see that," she said, grinning at the two of them.

Ron's eyes blazed. "Ginny, I swear – "

"Please don't say anything," Hermione cut him off. Ron yelling at her was not going to make the situation any better. She was going to have to do the best job at damage control that she could. "It's not what it looked like. We really did just fall asleep and we weren't like _that_ when we started off." She gave the younger girl a pleading look.

Ginny sighed. "All right, fine, I'll keep my mouth shut – for _you_." She shot Ron a dirty look, which he returned.

"Thank you," Hermione said, and she meant it. If this got out there would be too many embarrassing questions.

Ginny left her room and Hermione was thinking that it would be a good idea for her and Ron to do the same.

"I don't know how you're so calm about this. She knows better then to just walk in like that," he was trying to sound angry but he was just as embarrassed as she was.

"We should probably go down. Your mum's going to start wondering where we are." She was having trouble looking at him. All she could think about was Ginny walking in on them.

They walked down together and found the only two seats left at the table were side by side. Ron shot his sister a menacing glare, but she just grinned behind her napkin, finding the whole situation rather hilarious. Hermione was glad someone did because that was the longest dinner she ever had to sit through. She and Ron kept bumping arms and knocking things over, that even Harry started giving them strange looks. Ginny just sat back, thoroughly enjoying the scene unfolding in front of her.

Much later in the evening Hermione went looking for Harry. The last place she expected to find him was where he actually happened to be. He was in Buckbeack's room, sitting against the wall and tossing dead rats from a bag to the hippogriff. He stopped when he saw her and Buckbeak turned as well to see what had made his supply of food stop.

"Ron said you're parents are being released tomorrow," he said, while Buckbeack went over to her so she could pet him.

She was starting to feel like some foolish schoolgirl who would lose her head every time Ron's name was mentioned. That definitely was not a good sign. If this kept up, she would be giggling and gossiping with Lavender and Parvati in no time.

"I'm going to visit them tomorrow before they leave." She could not bring herself to _sent away_. It seemed too cruel of a thing to say, even when it was exactly what was happening. "You could come with me."

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "That's all right. I think I'll just stay here in case Mrs. Weasley thinks up any other chores for Ron and me to do."

"Harry, I don't hold you responsible for what happened," she said, unwilling to tip toe around what was obviously weighing heavily on his mind. "And as soon as you stop blaming yourself, I'll stop blaming myself."

He felt stupid for not considering that she felt responsible for the attack on her parents. He had been too absorbed in his own guilt to notice. Some best friend he was.

"Harry?" She was staring at him, still waiting for his answer.

He slowly nodded his head, giving her the response she was looking for so she would leave him alone.

She smiled brightly in return. "I'm sorry you and Ron got stuck doing all that work today. I should have been here to help."

"Don't worry about it," he said dismissively, and started throwing rats for Buckbeack again. "I'm sure there was nothing more Ron wanted than to be dragged out of bed early three days before summer vacation is over."

Hermione giggled, a rare sight indeed. The tension was gone and the air was finally cleared between them. She hated fighting with Harry because a lot of the times it was much more serious then anything she fought with Ron about.

"I think I'm going to turn in," she said to him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry's voice called to her when she was almost back out in the hall. "If you still want me to come along with you tomorrow, I will."

"Of course I do," she told him, giving him a reassuring smile before leaving. She walked down the hall and was almost to her room when she ran into the person she had been avoiding since dinner.

"You going to bed?" Ron said, his gaze not quite meeting hers.

She nodded. "I think I might read a bit first."

It was his turn to nod.

"I asked Harry to come with me tomorrow," she said before any impending awkward silence could set in. "I think it would be good for him, so that he can really see my parents are okay. You should come too," she suggested.

"Just go with Harry. I'll stay here and do homework."

She knew he was completely unserious about the last part. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Not really sure what else to say, she said goodnight and turned to enter her room.

"Ginny's not going to say anything, is she?"

He looked rather worried, so she eased his fears. "No, I don't think so."

"Even if she did, it didn't mean anything."

"No, of course it didn't," she said in mutual agreement. She said goodnight again and walked in her room, thinking how relieved she was that they had both decided falling asleep together had meant nothing. In the back of her mind, however, even though they had both said it was nothing, it was most definitely something – at least to her.


	5. A New Year

CHAPTER FIVE: A New Year

Harry was the second last person that their large party was waiting for, which consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, who had taken the morning off work, Tonks, Lupin, and Moody. Two cars were waiting outside to take them to the train station, and if they didn't hurry they were going to miss their train to Hogwarts altogether.

Harry had done a frantic last minute search for his missing Potions book and had been lucky enough to find it under a pile of Ron's clothes. Any longer and he would have just had to buy a new one. They were cutting it close as it was, and now only had thirty minutes to get to the train station and board the Hogwarts Express before it departed at exactly eleven o'clock.

As he bounded down the stairs, Mrs. Weasley asked him, "where's Ron?"

"Er, he's having some difficulties with his tie."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head in exasperation. "That boy has no sense of punctuality. I wonder sometimes how he managed to become a prefect."

"I'll go get him," Hermione offered, knowing she would be saving Ron from a nagging lecture from his mother. That didn't mean she won't a have a few choice words planned for him. She expected a snicker from Ginny, but the other girl had forgone her teasing for the time being, and was getting as impatient as the rest of them.

She bounded the stairs quickly, coming to a halt just outside Ron's room. Through his open door she could see him struggling to get his tie done the right way, getting more frustrated by the second. The abnoxious laughter from his mirror was only serving to irritate him further.

"Bloody stupid tie," she heard him mutter under his breath.

He caught her standing there and turned a glowering look on her. "Whoever suggested that the prefects should board the train already in uniform was mad out of their mind."

He already knew she was the one who had made the suggestion to Dumbledore last year. "It's easier for the first years to recognize us this way," she explained to him.

He grunted in response and went back to his struggles.

She wanted to chide him for leaving getting ready to the last minute, but she restrained herself. "Do you want a hand? If we don't get going soon we'll miss the train."

He halted his efforts and with an exaggerated gesture let his hands fall to his sides.

She grabbed both ends of the tie and put them at an appropriate length around his neck. "I would have thought by now you could do one properly."

"Mum's not expecting a properly done tie, she's expecting a spit and polish prefect one. Otherwise I'll get some lecture about not being a good role model or whatever."

She put the first end through once, saying, "There's supposed to by quite a few first year students this year. More than usual."

"Great, a whole lot of extra brats for me to boss around."

"Ron, you can't call them that. Honestly, don't you remember what it was like to be eleven?"

"Yeah, well, I was never that bad. These kids get worse every year."

"As I recall," she said, a smile tugging on her lips, "you were an arrogant and insensitive prat. Still are, as a matter of fact."

"You're still a bossy, know-it-all, so it's good to see some things never change," he retorted.

She stopped her work and looked up to see him smirking at her. Then something happened and his expression changed and suddenly nothing seemed to be funny anymore. Standing in such close proximity, with her hands still on the front of his tie, he had that same look in his eyes that had been present when they had been in the water together. She hadn't understood what it had meant then, but she knew now. Desire and lust. Two things she never thought she would associate with Ron _and_ being directed at her.

The silence was unbearable, and she thought he would look away, but instead he lowered his face closer to hers. On instinct, since she seemed to be incapable of moving of her own accord, she found herself doing the same, moving her face up to meet his, until their lips connected for the first time.

It was as tentative and unsure as first kisses go. As the kiss progressed, their exploration of each other's mouths deepened. Her tongue mingled with Ron's and he groaned into her mouth, pushing her back against the wall. Encouraged when she didn't protest, he let his hands wander down to her sides, but her robe was obstructing his movement. _Stupid cloak_, he thought to himself. Without moving his lips from hers, he somehow managed to unfasten it and it fell uselessly to the floor. The fact that everything was happening so fast didn't factor in for Ron. He could care less that might miss the train to school. This felt too good to stop. Hermione was pressed up against him, her hands tangled through his hair, and the way she kept grazing her tongue against his teeth was driving him insane. This was so much better then all the times he had imagined what kissing her would be like.

"Hermione! Ron! We don't have much time. Hurry up, please."

The sound of Ron's mum brought them back to the present and they pulled apart instantly. The door to Ron's room was wide open, and a look of panic rose on both their faces at the prospect of being caught. A lot of uncomfortable explanations were avoided when they realized Mrs. Weasley wasn't upstairs, she was simply calling up to them from the floor below.

"We're coming, mum!" Ron yelled to make sure his mother stayed downstairs.

They fumbled to make themselves look presentable and not like two people who had been snogging each other senselessly. Hermione snatched her robe off the floor and fastened it quickly, and used the mirror to try and straighten her hair, which was laughing at her in much the same way it had to Ron minutes earlier. She couldn't go down there with her cheeks as flushed as they were, but she didn't have much choice. Ron was patting down his own hair, and they were trying very hard not to look at each other.

Once downstairs, Mrs. Weasley was too busy ushering them out to the waiting cars where everyone else already was to notice anything about their appearances. No one asked about Ron's tie, which still hung untied around his neck.

The train ride back to Hogwarts normally served as a sense of relief for Harry, mainly because he was going back to the place that had been more of a home to him in the last five years then the fifteen he had spent locked up at the Dursley's. He could look forward to Quidditch again and although he would have to continue his Occlumency lessons, it would be with Lupin and that was a million times better than having Snape as an instructor. But if he stopped being so thick and mastered the subject already he wouldn't need lessons at all.

After having spent a half an hour listening to Dean and Ginny catch up and watch Hermione and Ron be forcefully polite to one another – the way they always sounded after a row – he needed to get some air. No one paid him any real attention as he excused himself and exited the cart.

Being on a train, he didn't have many options of where to go. He began strolling down the long corridor, occasionally passing by other students or an open cart door where the noise filled out into the hallway. He was considering going back to his own cart and toughing out the rest of the journey when he spotted a familiar face emerging from a cart not too far in front of him. Now he really wished he had turned around, but it was too late she had already spotted him.

Cho Chang was approaching him, wearing a nervous smile. She hadn't spoken to him since she had decided that things weren't going to work between them. That was over three months ago, so he wasn't quite sure why she suddenly had the urge to talk to him.

"Hi Harry."

"Hello Cho."

"How was your summer?"

"I've had better," he replied. This was so awkward and horrible he would have given anything for an interruption or an excuse to go back to his friends.

"I know what you mean."

Harry had to fight down the urge to tell her she had no idea the kind of hell his summer had been. He said instead, "How's Michael?" He knew his tone was harsh, but he didn't care. She had gone straight for Michael Corner before he even had a chance to try and work things out with her.

"He's fine," she answered, not meeting his gaze. "He spent most of the summer in Scotland visiting family."

So her summer had been dismal because her boyfriend hadn't been around. He didn't feel sorry for her one bit.

"I wanted to write you," she said suddenly. "I really hated the way we left things."

"So what stopped you?"

She gave a small sort of shrug, but didn't answer.

"It's probably a good thing you didn't. Michael might get jealous. I'll see you at school," he said and started to walk off.

She grabbed a hold of his hand, forcing him to stop and look at her.

"I missed you," she said in a voice so low Harry was sure his ears had deceived him.

"Well, well, well, look what we have hear," a smug voice sauntered. "Should I take off points for snogging in the hall or for snogging someone else's girlfriend?"

"Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk, Malfoy?" Harry shot back.

"Not really," he said off handedly, taking a step closer to Harry, which was surprising considering Crabbe and Goyle weren't by his side. "Besides I'm the one with the power to give you a month full of detentions for your complete lack of respect towards a prefect."

"That's bollocks," Cho said in outrage. "You don't have the authority to do that."

Malfoy smirked at Harry. "You want to see if I'm bluffing, Potter?"

As tempted as Harry was to call Malfoy's bluff and prove that he was a lying bastard, he didn't on the off chance that he wasn't. Hermione had gone on about a bunch of new Prefect rules but he hadn't really been paying attention when she had told him. Now he really wished he had.

"Shouldn't you be off babysitting first years?" A new voice said from behind Harry.

"I thought I smelled a _weasel_," Malfoy said with a chuckle.

"I followed the scent of a smug arrogant bastard and look where it led me," said Ron, coming to stand beside Harry. Hermione was with him, looking torn between telling Ron off and agreeing with him.

"Why don't you take your little Prefect badge and go back to Crabbe and Goyle. You must miss them terribly, not having them at your beck and call," Ron taunted.

Malfoy moved so he was directly in front of Ron. "You might want to show a little respect, Weasley. Some of us take our duties more seriously then others."

Ron took a dangerous step closer to Malfoy. "Some of us got to be prefects without daddy's help. That was before he got sent to Azkaban for breaking into the ministry as a Death Eater and trying to kill us, right?"

Instead of taking the bait, Malfoy straightened. "It's only a matter of time before he's out," he said coolly. "He's not likely to forget who sent him there – neither will I," he said, shooting Harry a venomous look.

"He'll never get out of there," Ron said confidently. "And it's only a matter of time before you're rotting away there with him."

"Don't threaten me, Weasley," said Malfoy in a dangerous voice. "I can make your existence more pathetic then it already is."

Hermione could sense how close Ron was to losing his temper. "Let's go," she urged him.

Malfoy laughed at this. "You know what's even more pathetic? You let a woman tell you what to do. You can't think for yourself if Granger's not around."

Ron's fists were clenched at his sides, and Hermione knew she had to get them both out of there. "Ron, he's not worth losing your prefect badge over. Let's get out of here." She looked over at Harry for help but he was staring at Malfoy in a look similar to Ron's.

"She sounds just like that god awful mother of yours," Malfoy continued to provoke him. "Speaking of mothers, how's yours, mudblood?

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy," Ron warned, sensing Hermione tensing beside him. How Malfoy could have found out about what happened seemed unlikely, unless he had known the attack was going to take place. That thought made him want to cause Malfoy the same pain he had put her parents through,

"How are they doing?" He persisted. "I heard it must have been quite painful what they went through."

Ron's fist connected with Malfoy's nose a split second after he spoke the last word. Even after he had the satisfaction of hearing it crack, he wasn't about to let him walk away after that. If he had anything to do with what happened to Hermione's parents he was going to wish he had never been born.

"You bloody wanker," Malfoy spat, holding his nose. "You broke my nose!"

"That's not all I'm going to break." He took a step towards the injured Slytherin, but Harry stepped in front of him.

"Ron, let's get out of here, _now_." If Ron didn't get a handle on his temper, Harry had no doubt Malfoy would end up with much more than a broken nose.

"You wait 'til I report this," Malfoy was saying. "They'll take more than just your badge for this if I have anything to stay about it." He walked away, still holding his nose with both hands.

Hermione turned on Ron. "Why did you hit him?"

Ron was already furious and that question did not make him any less angry. "Don't tell me you actually feel sorry for that bastard!"

"He's right, you're going to get in so much trouble for this. Ron, they could – "

"You know what, stop right there. I don't need a lecture from you right now. I hit him because he deserved it for what he said."

"I think I'm going to head back to my cart now," Cho said from beside Harry. "If Malfoy says anything, I'll tell McGonagall that Ron was provoked." Then she was gone and Harry was left with his two friends – actually it was just Ron. Hermione was walking away from them.

Ron turned to Harry in utter disbelief "Can you believe her? I was defending her and now she's angry with me. How messed up is that?" He shook his head. "Whatever, I'm not apologizing for this."

Harry didn't think he should. If he hadn't punched Malfoy when he had, he probably would have done it.

"So what's going on with you and Cho?" Ron asked him, forgetting about Hermione and Malfoy for the time being.

"Nothing, she just wanted to talk and then Malfoy showed up."

They started walking and Ron asked, "you still fancy her, don't you?"

"She's dating Michael Corner, remember?" He said, carefully skirting around the question.

"Yeah, that git Ginny was with. What did she see him anyways?" He looked at Harry. "But there's nothing wrong with still fancying her. Maybe she's just with Corner to forget about you."

Harry considered that but it didn't seem likely. "She said she wanted to write me over the summer," Harry told him as they approached their designated cart.

"See, maybe she does still like you," Ron reasoned.

Harry gave an indifferent shrug, trying to make it seem like he didn't care one way or the other. He had acted bitter towards Cho to cover up his feelings. It was the first actual conversation they had since their argument over Cho's friend Marietta, who had sold the entire DA out to Umbridge. After that, she had moved right on to Michael Corner, and he had been too wrapped up with O.W.L.'s and Sirius's death to bother with her. He had thought being away from her the whole summer he would be over her. He was, at least he had been until he had seen her again.

They entered their cart to find it completely empty, save for Hermione. Her nose was buried in a book and she didn't look up as they entered. He and Ron sat at the opposite end of the cart, conversing amongst themselves. Hermione ignored them both for the remainder of the train ride. If this was any indication of what the school year was going to be like, it was going be a long year for everyone.


	6. Not The Best Way To Start Off The School...

CHAPTER SIX: Not The Best Way To Start Off The School Year

On the first morning of classes, Harry walked into a Great Hall alive with excited chatter – at least until he entered. It wasn't that no one had been talking about him when he had first arrived, but thanks to Dumbledore's traditional beginning of the school year speech all eyes seemed to land on him when he entered a room, and the chattering turned into hushed anxious whispering. At first, he thought he might be reading too much into it, but when he would look over at another table, the students would quickly avert their eyes. It was only the first day and it was already this bad.

"Honestly, you think they'd be rushing over here to thank you," said Hermione loud enough for a group of whispering fourth year girls at the Hufflepuff table to hear. "All you did was tell the truth all last year, and now that everyone knows Voldemort is back they're acting the exact same way as before." She ignored the pained look Ron gave her for saying Voldemort's name loud enough for half the Great Hall hear.

"Forget it, Hermione. I don't care," he said to her. He had learned a long time ago that once people got an idea in their head it was extremely hard to change that opinion.

The only table that wasn't whispering behind their hands or giving him fearful looks was the Slytherin one. That was only because Malfoy, with his newly healed nose, and his band of followers were too busy throwing him threatening looks every time he turned their way.

He looked over at the staff table, giving a small wave to Hagrid before his eyes fell on Dumbledore, who was presently locked in conversation with McGonagall. Somehow the Headmaster seemed to know he was looking at him, for he turned and met Harry's gaze though the packed hall of students. Unlike so many times in the past, Dumbledore did not offer him a kind or gentle smile. It was the same expression that he had looked down at Harry with back in June – sympathy and deep regret. Harry quickly tore his gaze away. He couldn't feel sorry for the old Headmaster, and if he was looking for some sort of forgiveness from Harry he wasn't going to get it.

He could recall Dumbledore's speech from the previous night clearly. He had not sugar coated the details of Voldemort's return and said that despite what the _Daily_ _Prophet_ was reporting, there had been little Death Eater activity since June and Voldemort's whereabouts remained unknown. He neither confirmed nor denied that the Dementors were now in league with Voldemort. He did express that it was extremely likely as it had happened during Voldemort's original reign to power. Harry didn't know how much was reiterated from his end of the school year speech in June because he had skipped the feast in hopes of avoiding the accusing looks being sent in his direction, as if he had a hand in helping restore Voldemort to power.

The Headmaster's speech had been even more severe than when he had been warning them about the Dementor's protecting the school back in Harry's third year. No student was allowed outside after dark, and all Quidditch practices had to be conducted under the watchful eye of a teacher. If anyone was caught wandering the halls after curfew would find themselves in the same amount of trouble as if they had caught entering the Forbidden Forrest. He had also told them that per the orders of the Ministry, Aurors would be stationed indefinitely at the school. He didn't inform them of where or how many there would be. The tone in which Dumbledore had spoke had been grave, completely devoid of any humour and gentleness that was so typical of his speeches.

Dumbledore's words had the effect of making everything seem that much more serious. If Aurors were patrolling the school then the threat of Voldemort was very real. So on top of the fearful looks Harry was getting, people were looking at him as if these new rules were his fault, and if it weren't for him there would be no need for the Aurors. He noticed the only people that weren't looking at him any differently were those in his own house and everyone who had been a part of the DA.

Not feeling all that hungry to begin with, Harry joined the other Gryffindors at his table in rechecking and comparing timetables. Harry had not given much thought to what his course load would be like over the summer, other then when he had received his O.W.L.s. He had received "Exceeds Expectation" in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfiguration. The most shocking of all his marks was he had somehow managed to scrape "Outstanding" in Potions. Based on his marks a course listing had been sent to the Dursley's outlining the different career options available to him. The two options that seemed the most exciting to him were a Curse Breaker for Gringotts (though he would have to start taking Arithmancy for that), and an Auror. Unfortunately, for either of those options he still needed Potions. In her letters, Hermione had all but begged him to take Arithmancy, saying she would give him all the tutoring he needed. She had added in that it would also open up more career options if he decided curse breaking or being an Auror wasn't for him. At the time he had just wanted to get her off his back and had finally wrote back saying he would, which was quickly followed by a letter from Ron telling him he was mental for letting Hermione talk him in to taking it. Now, seeing on his schedule that he had to take it three times a week, with the final lesson of the week being a class for those students who had never taken Arithmancy before to help them catch up, he was already regretting giving into her nagging so easily.

Since he needed Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms, he was left with one other course to pick. If he wanted to be a Curse Breaker, he was required to take Ancient Runes. Curse Breakers spent a lot of time traveling through jungles and uncharted territories, picking their way through tombs and ancient structures that were guarded by centuries old magic. He was disappointed he would not be able to take Care of Magical Creatures this year and have Hagrid as a teacher, but he was sure the groundskeeper would understand. Hermione on the other hand was ecstatic that she would finally have someone to talk about Ancient Runes and Arithmancy with.

The two of them shared the exact same schedule, since Hermione had received "Exceeds Expectation" in everything. He and Ron had everything but Arithmancy and Ancient Runes together. Ron had never said what his O.W.L. marks were, but they must have been pretty good in order for him to get into McGonagall and Snape's classes.

He and Ron were currently pouring over their schedules together. Though sixth years were only required to take six classes because of the heightened level of difficulty, their timetables appeared quite full. Not to mention that they had the worst class possible to start off the new year with.

"Double potions on the first day?" Ron moaned. "If that's not a bad omen for the year I don't know what is."

"Maybe he'll be in a good mood because he doesn't have to give me Occlumency lessons anymore," said Harry, remaining hopeful.

"I doubt it," Ron grumbled.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts should more than make up for it," Hermione spoke up.

"Why?" They both asked in unison. On their schedule the professor's name said 'to be announced', even stranger then that was their first class was not scheduled until the following week.

"I heard that Dumbledore hired an Auror he knew personally to teach it."

"Really?" Ron said excitedly.

"That's just what I heard. It does make sense though, doesn't it? Considering the Aurors here at the school," she said before going back to her breakfast.

Ron gave up any hope of engaging her in further conversation, and turned to Harry. "That would be something, wouldn't it, Harry? Imagine what he could teach us." He heard Hermione snicker under her breath and shot her a look. "What's so funny?"

"You, excited about learning. I didn't think it was possible," she said genuinely surprised. "And don't assume it's a _he_. There are quite a few female Aurors, you know."

Ron's ears went red. "I thought you weren't talking to me," he said, in an effort to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm not," she said evenly.

Ron snorted. "Could have fooled me."

She flattened her palms on the table and stood up. "I'm going to the library before class." She threw her schoolbag over her shoulder and walked off without another word.

"Have a good time," Ron called after her.

"You're just making things worse, you know that, don't you?" Harry said when he turned back around.

"She's going to be mad at me no matter what I say, so I might as well make the most of it," said Ron, as Ginny flopped down on the bench beside him. "Hey, Gin," he greeted her. She just glared at him and looked away. "Good morning to you too," he grumbled and she ignored him. "What the hell is everyone's problem this morning?" He said to no one in particular.

Harry didn't have an answer for him. His eyes wandered around the Great Hall and before long his gaze fell on the Ravenclaw table. Cho was laughing at something one of the girls beside her had said. She caught Harry staring at her and gave him a quick smile before turning back to her friends. His face reddened and he looked down at his empty plate. He hadn't meant for her to catch him staring like that. Now Ron was looking at him and he felt extremely foolish.

"Let's get to class," he said before Ron could say anything. They still had fifteen minutes before class started but he didn't feel like sitting around there anymore.

Surprisingly, Ron followed him without protest, even when the last thing they both wanted was to get to Snape's class early. Harry was starting to wonder if Ron's omen about Potions was right. But it was the first day, how bad could it be?

Hermione was already in class waiting for them when they arrived. She deliberately avoided eye contact with Ron, and Harry thought he would be smart enough to not sit near her, but either he was completely oblivious or looking to start another row with her because he sat down on the bench beside her. He thought about squeezing in between them, but if they weren't mature enough to get along on their own he wasn't about to baby-sit them.

"What do you think Ginny's problem was?" Ron asked him.

"Maybe she didn't get a lot of sleep," Harry responded with a shrug.

Hermione opened her mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it and closed it.

"For someone who's supposed to be giving me the silent treatment you sure are interested in talking," noted Ron.

"I just think that you should talk to Ginny if you're really concerned."

Ron eyed her carefully. "Why? What do you know?"

"Ron, you really should ask her – "

"I'm asking _you_," he said, putting heavy emphasis on the 'you'.

Hermione looked ready to tell him off, but thought better of it and said instead, "I overheard some fifth years at breakfast saying that Dean was seeing someone else during the summer, but I don't know if it's true," she added quickly, seeing his face darken and his eyes blazing with fury.

At that precise moment Dean and Seamus walked in, with Neville trailing helplessly behind them, looking positively fearful at the prospect of another year of Potions.

Gazing around at the number of desks provided, the class was considerably smaller then in previous years. However, there was still a large enough number to note that many of the career options must have required Potions because Harry seriously doubted this many people would take Snape's class if given a choice. It came as no surprise to see Malfoy sitting at the back of the class with Pansy Parkinson beside him. They both smirked evilly at Harry before he looked away. The only consolation was Crabbe and Coyle were nowhere to be seen. As dumb as Crabbe and Goyle were, Harry figured Malfoy wouldn't have many classes together with his goons.

"Hey, Thomas, what happened with you and my sister?" Ron asked when the two Gryffindors seated themselves in front of them. He shook off Hermione on his elbow, trying to keep him from making a scene.

"Look, Ron, it's nothing. We just had a row is all," said Dean dismissively.

"About another girl," Seamus muttered, but it was loud enough for Ron to hear.

Dean punched him hard in the arm. "Thanks a lot, mate."

"How could you do that to Ginny?" Ron snarled.

"We weren't even really together for the summer. I mean, things didn't really start 'til school ended and you know how it is."

Hermione could see Ron was struggling to refrain from tackling the other boy and beating him mercilessly. "Ron, you're already in enough trouble. Please don't make things worse," she urged him.

While Ron spent that moment contemplating her words, thinking about what would happen if he got in two fights before the school year had even officially started, someone else's fist lined up and hit Dean square on the jaw. He stumbled back into the desk from the force of the blow, staring at his attacker in astonishment. Ron did the same. He had not been prepared for Harry to be the one to hit him.

Now all eyes in the class were on Harry and the room was silent. His fist had connected with Dean's face before he had even realized what he was doing. Ron was staring at him in awe, and he couldn't quite figure out what the look on Hermione's face meant, but was sure it was somewhere along the lines of severe disapproval.

"Potter!" A greasy voice boomed. "Ten points from Gryffindor and detention with me tonight at eight," Snape snapped at him as he came to stand in front of the class. "As a matter of fact," he continued, his face taking on a look of feigned contemplation, "I don't think I want to take the chance of you disrupting my class any further. Pack your things and get out of my sight."

Harry did as he was told, packing his things up in a hurry. He ignored the snide looks he was getting from Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin side of the room as he departed the classroom. Once he was out in the hall, Snape slammed the door shut behind him. Harry flung his schoolbag down in a state of fury. He must have set some sort of a record getting kicked out of class before it was even five minutes in. To top everything off he'd have to endure Snape again tonight. He should have just let Ron hit Dean.

"So how bad was it?" Ron asked Harry when he returned around ten thirty from his detention.

Harry sank wearily onto the empty chair beside him. "I had to re-organize his ingredient cabinet and wash out all the school cauldrons. And the stupid git is making me write a four foot essay on the need for proper cauldron cleaning techniques."

"You got off easy compared to me," Ron said to him. "You know how McGonagall kept me behind after Transfiguration? I've got detention with her every Saturday morning for the next month. She says I'm on probation for what happened with Malfoy. I step out of line again and I lose the prefect badge."

"Did you tell Hermione?"

"Are you mad? I just got one lecture from McGonagall. I'm not looking forward to hearing another one."

Harry suddenly clued in to what his friend had said about Saturday morning detentions. "The pitch is booked for Gryffindor every Saturday morning. The season starts first week of October this year. You'd be missing all the practices. Katie's not going be happy, especially since the first two practices she's holding tryouts for a new Chaser."

"There's not much I can do about it. I didn't even get the satisfaction of seeing Malfoy's broken nose," he scowled, wishing for once that Madame Pomfrey couldn't heal people so easily.

"Maybe Katie can talk to McGonagall," Harry said, thinking quickly. "She has to understand that Gryffindor needs their keeper in top form if we want to make a good run at the cup."

"You're starting to sound like Oliver Wood," Ron said in all seriousness. "But you know McGonagall won't budge on this. She doesn't want to show favouritism."

Hermione came storming down the girl's staircase then, looking flustered as she walked over to where they were seated. The source of her distress was quickly revealed as Lavender and Parvati hurried into the common room, looking like they had been following her all along.

"Come on, Hermione," Lavender was saying. "Just give us five minutes."

"It is for academic reasons after all," Parvati added, as if that could convince her.

"I said I'd think about it," she told them. "I'm sure you could find someone much more interesting to include."

"I told you we need an interview with all the sixth year Gryffindors," Lavender explained.

"What's going on?" Harry asked when she joined them at their table.

"We're doing a documentary on Gryffindor," Parvati said before Hermione could answer. "It's for our muggle studies class. Everyone was given an assignment for the semester to do based on Muggle life. We have to create a muggle documentary using the students of Gryffindor as potential interviewees."

"What kinds of questions are you going to be asking?" Ron asked them, imagining they would probably all be along the lines of boys and make up.

"About their background, what it means to be a Gryffindor, you know, stuff like that," Parvati answered.

"Maybe a personal question or two," Lavender added in. "Whether you like it or not you're all going to be interviewed," she said as if that decided the matter. Then she and Parvati walked off to an empty table, talking feverishly about what the theme would be for their project.

"Nutters," Ron muttered, shaking his head.

"They're not interviewing me," stated Harry. "I've read enough about my life in the _Prophet_ without having everyone watch a video about it."

Hermione turned to Ron. "So what did McGonagall want with you?"

Ron's face took on a look of mild panic, but he recovered quickly. "Nothing, really. Just wanted to see if I had been practicing over the summer. A keeper needs to be in top form."

Hermione looked to Harry to confirm his story, and he nodded meekly. Hermione wasn't daft, but even though she knew he was covering for Ron for whatever reason she didn't call him on it. Perhaps it was her way of calling a truce with Ron, but Harry had a feeling that if she found out he was on probation, that truce would quickly dissolve.


	7. Gryffin Life

Those of you who have been dying for a little R/Hr will enjoy this one.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Gryffin Life

While Ron had known his Saturday detentions with McGonagall wouldn't be a picnic, he thought at the very least she would be easier on him then, say Snape. But no, she had him washing down blackboards, shining up suits of armour, and scrubbing the floor and sinks clean in the boys loo – all without the aid of magic. Another month of this and the school's caretaker Argus Filch wouldn't have a job. Every so often the Gryffindor Head of House would come check on his progress and once his work was to her satisfaction she would give him his next task. By the time his weekly detention had ended at noon, he was hungry and tired – and in desperate need of a hot shower. He was starting to think that he should've just given Malfoy a good threat instead of breaking his nose. He wouldn't have gotten the same satisfaction out of it, but at least his muscles would have been aching and sore from Quidditch practice not from polishing every set of knight's armour on the third floor, each one cackling at him as he did so.

He was on his way back to Gryffindor Tower to shower before lunch, when he heard a voice call him from behind, making him stop dead in his tracks. Hermione quickened her pace to catch up with him, and Ron used that time to wrack his brain for excuses as to why he wasn't in his Quidditch robes.

"How was practice?" She asked him. The way she said it told him she probably already knew he hadn't been within ten feet of the pitch today. She was giving him an opening to admit where he'd been all morning.

"Ah, it was all right, but I left early. I wasn't feeling too well. I think it must be something I ate." That sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. He should have just confessed instead of digging a deeper hole for himself.

"Ron, I know you weren't at practice," she said matter-of-factly. "I went to go watch and when I asked Harry where you were he said you had detention with Professor McGonagall."

"Traitor," Ron muttered under his breath. She didn't sound upset that he had lied, but he just wished Harry could have kept his mouth shut or come up with some plausible excuse for his absence.

"If it helps, I don't think he meant to tell me. As soon as he had, he looked rather guilty about it."

"I bet he did." Ron could picture the mortified look on Harry's face as he revealed his friend's true whereabouts, but none of that was going to help him out of the mess he was in now.

"Honestly, how long did you two think you could keep this from me?"

She knew about his detentions, but had Harry coughed up about his probation status as well? "Did Harry tell you anything else?" He tried to ask as casually as he could.

"No, he – wait a minute. What else aren't you telling me? Did McGongall suspend you for what happened on the train?"

Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least Harry had kept his mouth shut about the most important part. But if he lied she would be able to tell he was hiding something. "Have you eaten? I'm starving, let's go down for lunch," he said and started walking.

"_Ron_," she said in her most annoying voice as she fell into step beside him, "you're avoiding the question."

"The same way you've been avoiding me all week?" He shot back.

"I was not. I – I was just busy with my classes," she sputtered.

He stopped walking, not buying that excuse at all. It was only the first week. There was no way she could be that buried in schoolwork already because they had all the same classes save for two, and the only thing Harry was struggling with was Arithmancy. But that was only because he had never taken it before. There was another, more obvious explanation that neither one of them had been willing to address before now. "I think we need to talk."

She stopped walking as well and looked at him blankly. "About what?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, I know you're not daft. You know exactly what I'm talking about." He raked a hand through his hair and began speaking very fast. "I kissed you and I really wish that I could take it back because you won't even look at me anymore. I'm sorry that I screwed up our friendship, but you have my word that it won't happen again."

"Are you quite finished?" She asked when he was done.

His eyes widened in surprise at her tone, but he nodded nevertheless.

"You're right I was avoiding you," she admitted, "but it was because I didn't know what to say to you. In an instant, everything had changed so much so fast that I didn't know what to do. I thought maybe you realized it was a mistake and just wanted to forget about it."

He gaped at her. "So you don't? I mean you don't regret it then?"

She bit her lower lip and slowly shook her head.

He had been waiting for that answer from her for days. He usually wasn't able to go much more than ten minutes without letting his mind drift to what had happened. He was thankful that it was only the first week of class so he had not missed out on much by not paying attention. But if they didn't sort things out soon he was doomed to fail the school year.

Almost unconsciously, they seemed to be closing the distance between each other. It didn't cross either of their minds that they were in the middle of the hallway and anyone could happen to walk by and see them. When their lips connected Ron wished he hadn't waited so long to approach her. They could have been doing _this _days ago. The kiss was hesitant and somewhat unsure, as if they were trying to gauge if this was really what the other wanted. But when Hermione opened her mouth enough that Ron could slip his tongue inside, he knew with absolute certainty that there was nothing better he could be doing at that precise moment. Without warning, she pulled away, leaving him wondering if he had done something wrong. Or was she having second thoughts?

"So what does this mean?" She asked after a moment. "What happens to us now?"

He rubbed the back of his neck in nervous gesture at having been put on the spot like this. She was expecting him to have all the answers? If she didn't know what was going to happen, how hell was he supposed to? "We're still best friends. That won't change." Even as he said it, he didn't quite believe it. Something told him they would never be just 'best friends' again. "If you're having second thoughts – "

"No, that's not it at all," she cut in. "I'm just scared," she admitted, biting her lower lip. "Aren't you?"

"Terrified," he said grinning, and he was. He did not want to screw this up. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she placed he palms on his chest to push him back.

"Ron, we can't. Anyone could walk by and see us."

"That little fact didn't seem to bother you a minute ago," he said with a smirk.

She flushed. "That was different. I was – I was – "

He silenced her protests with a kiss. She resisted him at first, but soon she was kissing him back just as fiercely.

The one coherent thought that Ron's brain was able to form was that this was going to be a fantastic year.

Harry had eaten lunch in relative solitude. It was typical for the Gryffindor team to eat together on a Saturday after their morning practice. They would usually discuss strategies or areas that needed improvement over lunch – but not on that particular day. Harry felt it would be a waste of time and energy, and it was obvious Katie Bell did too. Ginny hadn't arrived yet for lunch and Ron was presumably still stuck in detention. That reminded him that he had slipped up to Hermione and told her Ron's real whereabouts when she had come down to watch their practice. Ron was not going to be happy about that.

The real reason they weren't discussing Quidditch tactics was that the practice had been so abysmal, Harry figured Katie was trying to repress the memory just as he was. Their two beaters, who were just barely decent in the first place, had quite obviously not practiced during the summer months, and Harry, who had not been on a broom since his lifetime Quidditch ban had been put in place, found himself a bit rusty as well. But neither of that compared to the lot that had showed up to try out for the single vacant Chaser position. Ten candidates had showed up, ranging from third all the way up to sixth year. Out of them, Harry could pick maybe two that were really good – Sam Dennison, a fourth year and Dean Thomas.

While Sam naturally gifted on a broom, he had some difficulties when it came to riding and handling a Quaffle at the same time. Twice, he had almost fallen off completely. Dean had flow extremely well, even landing a few shots in the goal posts from far out, but Harry couldn't even congratulate him on it. Dean wasn't speaking to him, which made practicing together rather difficult. Harry was just glad that with his position as Seeker, he didn't have too many interactions with the Chasers. Ginny Weasley didn't have that luxury. With Harry reclaiming his position as Seeker, Katie had automatically offered her one of the two vacant Chaser positions, not wanting to lose her. That meant having to work intensely with Katie and everyone else who was trying out for the final spot.

After practice, Katie had pulled him and Ginny aside and told them in no uncertain terms that they better work out whatever issues they were having with Dean because he was the best of the Chaser group they had seen that day. They had given her non-commital nods and that seemed to satisfy her. It was beginning to look more and more that whoever took on the Gryffindor captaincy, managed to take on the same Oliver Wood-like insanity when it came to Quidditch.

Dean hadn't said a word to him since his fist had rammed itself into his face, and that meant Seamus wasn't going out of his way to be nice to him either. He had considered apologizing, it wasn't as if Dean had done anything to him, but Ginny was his friend and if Dean thought he could snog any girl he wanted while they were supposed to be together, then he was sorely mistaken. It hadn't hurt that he had some excess frustration to work out and Dean had presented himself as the perfect target.

No longer wanting to endure the glares Dean would throw his way every few minutes, followed by the pointed ones Katie would send afterwards Harry shoveled down the remainder of his shepherd pie and left.

Once out in the main hall he spotted a group of Ravenclaw girls heading in his direction. He would have walked by them without a second glance, but one of them was looking at him. Cho whispered something to them, and her friends gave her a strange look, then gave Harry an equally suspicious one before walking into the Great Hall without her.

"I heard Gryffindor started practices today," she said, walking up to him.

"Well, it's not like we've got a lot of time to prepare since they bumped the start of the season up to October."

"I'm sure Gryffindor doesn't need that much time to prepare."

"You'd be surprised," he said smiling. "Especially considering the Seeker hasn't been on a broom in almost a year."

"Then I guess for once I'll have the advantage when we play you."

He was finding all this small talk rather strange. He and Cho had never had lengthy conversations in the past. They tended to be brief usually because he was too nervous to really converse with her. So he found it quite odd that he didn't feel all that nervous around her now. It was as if he was discovering for the first time that she really was just a girl.

"So when are you going to start the DA lessons again?"

"I'm not," he responded a little too harshly.

She looked genuinely shocked. "How come? Everyone was doing so well at them. You really are a good teacher, Harry."

"There's no point to it now with Umbridge gone and we'll be getting a real Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher when lessons start next week." "What's the real reason, Harry?"

"That is the real reason!" He almost shouted, causing the Ravenclaw girl to flinch. "I don't owe you any explanations, Cho."

"You're right, you don't."

The conversation seemed to be over then, ending much like their conversations in the latter part of last year. He was wondering how they could ever have dated when every time they talked they seemed to end up in an argument, when she did the unexpected and pressed her lips full against his. By the time Harry had wrapped his brain around what was happening, Cho was already pulling away from him. He didn't know what to do, so he just stood there like an idiot, with a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. She gave him an embarrassed smile before turning to join her friends in the Great Hall. He opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. He turned around and the grin on his face vanished when he saw Ginny Weasley standing at the bottom of the staircase watching him. It was fairly obvious by the look on her face that she had seen everything.

"So, no DA lessons, huh?" She said in attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, no DA lessons," he replied, though with not nearly as much severity as before.

"I never thanked you for defending me to Dean like that."

"I didn't mean to hit him," he said sheepishly.

"That's good, because I'm not so sure he deserved it."

"Ginny, he – "

"I know what he did," she cut in. "And I had it out pretty good with him about it, but now that I think about it it's not like were even really together. Sure, we owled each other plenty of times over the summer, but we didn't really had that kind of relationship."

"That's still no excuse."

Instead of being touched by his words, she said, "Michael Corner is a good guy, Harry," and then left him there, heading for the Great Hall.

Without even having to say the words she had managed to make him feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world. He had just done the same thing that he had hit Dean for doing. It wasn't exactly the same, but the situations were still comparable. What was worse was he was even entertaining ideas of seeing where something with Cho might lead, even when he knew exactly what it would lead to – trouble.

It took little effort for Hermione to finish her Transfiguration essay. Though she would typically finish the majority of her assignments with ease, this six-foot long parchment almost seemed to write itself – when she didn't let un-academic thoughts creep into her mind. She felt almost ridiculous that Ron was able to have such an effect on her. He always had, but until now it had almost always been an infuriating one. It was awkward, strange, exciting, and wonderful all at the same time. Even the sound of Lavender and Parvati entering the girls dorm giggling loudly, which would normally annoy her to no end, couldn't dampen her high spirits.

She was carefully checking through her essay for grammatical or other mistakes when the giggling duo jumped onto her bed.

"You still at that?" Lavender said in disbelief.

"I'm being thorough," she said without looking up.

"I haven't even started mine yet and it's due tomorrow," Parvati groaned.

"You still have plenty of time," Hermione said uncharacteristically.

The two girls looked at her in utter amazement.

"Okay, that's it, spill, Hermione," Lavender ordered. "You've been acting way too relaxed and un-uptight and way unlike you since lunch."

"Maybe I've just learned how to handle things a bit better this year."

"Not a chance," Lavender said immediately. "Two days ago you were all over us for leaving our side of the dorm a mess – "

"I believe the exact words you used were 'hippogriffs are cleaner then us'," Parvati injected.

"And just now you're didn't even bat an eyelash when Parvati said she hasn't started her essay for McGonagall when it's due in less than twenty-four hours. So that leaves two very plausible explanations for your behaviour. Either you've been possessed by something," Lavender said, using her finger ticking off the first option on her other hand, "or it's a boy."

Hermione felt a flush creep into her cheeks. "For your information I have not been possessed by any magical forces and there is no boy."

"So who do you think it is?" Parvati asked Lavender, ignoring Hermione.

"I bet it's Ron," Lavender answered simply.

Hermione willed herself to stop blushing, which was proving to be rather difficult. "What makes you think it's him?"

"So it is a boy! You just admitted it!" Lavender said triumphantly.

Hermione mentally scolded herself for being roped into admitting anything. How had she let these two outsmart her? Now there would be no escaping until their desire for gossip had been fulfilled.

Parvati raised a questioning eyebrow. "Are you going to tell us or are we going to have to go around and ask every guy in Gryffindor?"

"No, don't do that!" Hermione panicked before she could stop herself. The satisfied smirks on the two girls face told her they now had it narrowed down to a Gryffindor. Falling for Ron really had made her lose her head.

"I think that narrows it down to two possibilities," Parvati told her friend.

Lavender nodded in agreement. "Harry or Ron. So which is it, Hermione?"

"You two don't know what you're talking about," she said, making a show of packing up her school things so she wouldn't have to look at them.

"Harry is actually quite good-looking," Lavender said matter-of-factly, "even when he's all dark and brooding. The way he's always putting himself in the line of danger, willing to risk everything, I think it's all kind of sexy

."

Hermione made a show of rolling her eyes. She wondered what Harry would say if he heard them talking about him like this.

"Ron's quite attractive as well," Parvati chimed in. "And he has really nice eyes. Who knew he'd be that amazing at Quidditch?"

Hermione realized she was gripping her essay so tight she was close to ripping it. She had to regain her composure. There was nothing wrong with Parvati saying those things as long as she never acted on them.

"I know, why don't we do our interview with Hermione right now?" Lavender suggested innocently.

"I already told you I didn't want to be a part of your documentary," Hermione said, irritated now.

"It's either the interview or tell us who it is," Lavender told her.

Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. "Let's do the stupid interview then."

Parvati looked insulted. "It's not stupid," she said, retrieving the camera from her nightstand. "It's a real documentary on what it's like to be a Gryffindor. We're calling it Gryffin Life."

Hermione snorted. The word 'life' was probably a euphemism for the word 'gossip'.

Pavarti turned the camera on and pressed a button on the side. A red light came on to signal it was recording. Lavender started the questioning.

"Tell us your name and give us some information on your family background."

Hermione felt utterly ridiculous but she complied. She stated her name and then talked about coming from a muggle background, where her parents were dentists. She hadn't even known a wizarding world existed until she had received her letter from Hogwarts. When that happened, she read every book she could get her hands on about the subject.

"What was it like when you first started here?"

"My classes were fantastic. I loved all the subjects I was taking, but I guess I was a bit lonely. I didn't really have any friends in the beginning. I was too worried about being the top witch in all my classes that I ignored everyone else most of the time."

"So when did you become friends with Harry and Ron?"

Hermione paused for a moment. It was an innocent enough question, but she wondered if that was all Lavender was interested in. "After they saved me from a mountain troll," she said, smiling at the memory. "I was in the washroom crying, ironically because of something I overheard Ron say about me. I was frightened out of my mind, but he and Harry charged in and rescued me. They took on the troll just the two of them. I guess after sharing a near death experience, you can't help but form some kind of a bond."

"Because the three of you have grown so close over the years, have you ever found yourself having non-platonic feelings about one or more of your best friends?"

Hermione abruptly stood up. "This interview is over," she announced and walked out of the range of the video camera.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. It's just a simple question," Parvati said. "It's relevant to the interview. Remember, we're trying to get the real story of what goes on in Gryffindor."

Hermione stopped in the doorway to their room. "You'll have to get someone else to be your Gryffindor story scoop. My personal life isn't up for documenting."

She walked out of there knowing that it wouldn't be the last time those two shoved a video camera in her face.


	8. Good And Bad Choices

CHAPTER EIGHT: Good and Bad Choices

"So you snogged her?" Ron said, after listening to Harry's recount of his encounter with Cho from two days before.

"Keep your voice down, would you?" Harry hissed. He quickly glanced around the library to see if anyone had heard their conversation, but the students around them seemed to be absorbed in their schoolwork. "I didn't snog her," he said, turning back to Ron. "She kissed me."

Ron looked intrigued, while Hermione shot him a look that resembled disapproval before going back to her Ancient Runes homework, which was what Harry was supposed to be working on before Ron had begun questioning him, wanting to know why the table full of Ravenclaw seventh year girls sitting behind them kept glancing their way. It hadn't taken very long for him to tell Ron about Cho kissing him outside the Great Hall.

"So what are you going to do?" Ron asked him.

"I dunno," he said with a shrug.

"Harry, you can't honestly be thinking of pursuing something with her?" Hermione said to him.

Ron shot her a look. "Why not?"

She frowned at him. "Because she's dating Michael Corner. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

"Who cares? I never liked that git anyways."

She shot him a sharp look. "The only reason you don't like him is because he dated Ginny." She turned back to Harry. "I'm not trying to tell you want to do, Harry, but I just think you could do a lot better than Cho."

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "In case you haven't noticed girls aren't exactly throwing themselves at me thanks to that whole connection I've got with Voldemort."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond to that but fell silent when she felt Ron put a restraining hand on her leg.

"Do whatever you want, mate," he said to Harry. "She's obviously left the next move up to you."

He couldn't believe he was sitting there contemplating what to do, when it was painfully obvious what he should do. She had a boyfriend, so he should just back off. But she had approached him, and at least being with her would help him keep his mind off other things even if it was only for a little while.

Hermione was eyeing him. "So is it true that you're not starting up the DA classes again? Hannah told me that was what you said to Ernie."

"Maybe I should have sent out a bloody letter so everyone would stop asking me," he growled in frustration. "I won't change my mind either so don't push me on it. There won't be any DA because I'm so sick of this bloody war and wish it would just be over already – one way or another."

He fell silent after that, immersing himself in his Ancient Runes book but not really reading it at all. It was just his escape so he wouldn't have to look at his friends and see their faces.

Ron cleared his throat. "Er, we've got a prefect meeting with McGonagall before class," he said, getting to his feet and wordlessly shaking his head at Hermione who looked ready to object to this. "We'll see you in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Harry nodded but didn't look up from his book.

Hermione and Ron silently packed up their books and departed the library without another word to Harry. But once they were out of the confinements of the library, Hermione had a few choice words for Ron.

"The prefect meeting isn't until tonight. How could we just leave Harry like that?"

"I was trying to save you and Harry from an argument you were both going to regret," he said heatedly, continuing to steer her away from the library. "You were pushing him too far. First about Cho and then about the DA lessons."

"He _can_ do better than her," she said adamantly. "Am I the only one who sees that? If she really did care about Harry she would have broken it off with Michael Corner by now."

"Let it go, Hermione," he advised. "If going after Cho is going to make him happy I wish him all the best."

"Ron, the absolute worst thing Harry could do right now is get involved with someone."

"Maybe this would be good for him. It'll help him get over Sirius' death."

"He can't get over it if he won't even deal with it. Was I the only one who heard him say that he didn't care if he lived or died?"

Ron heaved a sigh. "He didn't mean that. He's just bloody well fed up with everything. I would be too."

"Ron – "

"He needs his space," he cut in sharply. "And you need to stop pushing him and respect whatever decision he makes with Cho. You're not his mother, you can't tell him what to do. You're supposed to be his friend, so start acting like one."

He could tell with that last part he'd gone a bit too far, but he could care less at the moment. She needed to realize what she was doing with Harry wasn't going to help him. It would only lead to her ruining their friendship. She was so sure that she was right and he was wrong, when he was just as confident that he was the one who was right for a change. He stormed right passed her deciding that if she couldn't see how obnoxiously judgmental she was being he didn't want to be anywhere near her.

When Defense Against the Dark Arts started twenty minutes later, Ron's mood had not improved. He walked in to find Hermione already seated beside Neville at the front of the class. She didn't look at him as he passed. _Very mature_, he thought to himself as he took a seat beside Harry at the back of the room. The muggle saying his father was so fond of saying – the more things change the more they stay the same – came to mind then. No matter how much things seemed to have changed between them recently, they both still seemed to do a fine job of angering one another. But this time he knew with certainty he had not been in the wrong. But that knowledge still might not be enough to get him out of this fight. Charlie had told him once when he was younger, that it was better to admit you were wrong even when you were right when it came to girls. He hadn't understood what he had meant at the time, but when he looked back now at all the rows he and Hermione had shared over the years, most times she had always wanted to hear an apology from him – and half the time he didn't know what he was supposed to apologize for! He wondered if things would be any different now that they were _together_? A _couple_? He wasn't even sure what they were. What he was sure of was that he didn't want to fight with her and wished they could just kiss and make up already. He was contemplating on following through on his brother's advice when their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher limped in.

Mad-Eye Moody entered the room and began running his magical eye over each one of them in turn. Harry knew he shouldn't have been at all shocked at Dumbledore's choice. There was no one better person suited to teach them about the dark arts, except for maybe Lupin – but that wasn't an option.

While most of the students squirmed in discomfort at being so closely watched, and probably because the last time they had seen Moody that person had been an imposter, Ron, Harry and Hermione seemed to be the only ones unaffected by Moody's penetrating gaze. It was likely due to having spent quite a bit of time in the presence of the Auror throughout the summer.

Moody walked around until he was standing in the center at the front of the room. "Judging by the size of this class, I suppose I would be correct to assume that many of you see yourselves as being Aurors one day?"

A few mumbled 'yes', while most found they preferred to nod their heads instead.

Moody surveyed the class and grunted. "I'll tell the lot of you right now that you'd have an easier time becoming a Healer then an Auror, and that the chances of even one person in this class making it past the entrance exams and as far as the training part of the program is remote at best."

This news seemed to somber the mood of the class. Those that had moments ago dreamed of becoming an Auror, now sat slumped in their seats. Harry found it hard not to feel dejected as well. McGonagall had explained to him how tough it would be just to be accepted into the Auror program and that no one had been taken on in the last three years, but he had thought if he worked hard enough to keep his marks up he might have a shot of getting in. After listening to Moody's brutal honesty, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"I bet most of you wish I would coddle you throughout the semester and give you false hope that your dreams of becoming an Auror will happen," he continued, seeing many despondent faces, "but I won't do that. False hope won't do you any good. False hope is what will get you killed. Anyone who thinks they can't handle that should leave my class now and take something a bit more _friendly_ like Divination or Muggle Studies."

Some looked like they wanted nothing more than to take Moody's advice, but not one person moved from their seats.

Moody's mouth stretched out into what on any other person would have been a smile, but the leathery stretching of his skin made it more of a frightening sight then anything else. "Maybe they'll be one or two Aurors in this class after all."

The class seemed to relax after that, Moody broke right into the lesson.

"Now, all except a select few of you," he began, his magical eye rolling over to Harry and Ron, "are a year behind in practical knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts. If you're expecting to take the NEWT class next year, you better be in class every day ready to pay attention and learn, and ready to devote your own time out of the classroom to practicing the advanced defense spells I'm going to be teaching you. From this class, I expect that and more, since you obviously needed an Exceeds Expectation in your O.W.L.s otherwise you wouldn't be here. Now, I want everyone to take out their wands and partner up. I'm going to come around and see how developed your skills are. We'll begin practical training on Friday."

Harry and Ron partnered up and immediately began testing how their defensive shield charm would hold up under an onslaught of curses. Amazingly, even going two months without practice had not affected them much. By looking around at the others who had joined the DA club, Ernie McMillan, Hannah Abbot and Neville to name a few, they were also doing really well. When Moody came around to them, he only had minor gruff criticism to offer, such as tightening their fighting stance and holding their wands out at a lower angle.

While Harry and Ron had managed to go through a handful of jinxes and their counter curses, it was clear to Harry that Ron was distracted. He kept glancing over at Neville and Hermione, and every so often Hermione would catch him looking and he would immediately snap his attention back to Harry.

"You two can't keep this up forever," Harry said in a low enough voice so only Ron would hear him.

"Keep what up?" Ron said thickly.

"The constant arguing and bickering. Don't you think after five years its time you two grew up a bit and not get into fights over silly things like what I'm going to do about Cho," he said, letting his voice drop another decibel.

Ron opened his mouth to deny it, but shut it again because it was so clearly obvious what they were arguing about now.

"See what I mean? You two could have moved on to something better by now but you're both too damn stubborn for your own good."

Ron's shield faltered at the last second and he got the tail end of a curse Harry threw at him, hitting him in the chest and making him stumble backwards. "What do you mean 'moved on to something better'?" His voice wavering slightly.

Harry shrugged. "You two could be a lot closer if Hermione didn't nag you to death and you didn't constantly provoke her."

Ron fought to keep his expression from showing just how much closer they had become since the end of summer. He and Hermione had decided to keep things quiet for the time being. They both agreed it probably wasn't the best time to drop something like this on Harry. While Ron thought Harry should be nothing but happy for them, Hermione believed that the idea of them _together_ would take some getting used to for him. That Harry would feel somewhat like they had abandoned him and it would affect their friendship. That led to the agreement that they would wait for the 'right time' to tell him. Ron didn't think there was ever going to be a right time for it.

When the lesson was over, Ron didn't even have a chance to approach Hermione. She had already gathered up her school things and was out the door before he could even react.

As he and Harry were one of the last to leave, Moody limped over to them on his wooden leg.

"Potter, Weasley, I hope you've taken to heart what I said about being an Auror. The Ministry doesn't accept anything less than the best," he said in his gruff voice. "And the Auror trainers don't take kindly to hot heads that can't keep a lid on their temper," he said, gazing pointedly at Ron. "Weasley, if you want a chance at becoming an Auror, you better learn that not all problems can be solved with your fist, even when that person is a smug and arrogant bastard like Malfoy."

"You were on the train?" Ron said instantly.

"Of course I was. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't keep an eye on Potter here," he said, swinging a glance at Harry.

He didn't say anything more on the matter, but Harry was fairly certain that the only way for Moody to undetected on the train was he had his invisibility cloak on the whole time. It made Harry wonder if there other Aurors at Hogwarts were walking around in stealth to keep an eye on him as he had not noticed any patrolling the grounds as of yet.

"I trust I've made my point clear to you?" He said, turning his magical eye back on Ron.

"Yes sir," Ron answered.

"I know I'm asking the impossible of both of you," he said, looking at the both of them, "but stay out of trouble."

Harry and Ron nodded in unison for all the good it did because it didn't look like Moody believed them one bit.

The moment he and Ron stepped out of the class, Harry knew that was one promise he would not be able to keep. Even when he tried to stay out of trouble, trouble seemed to have a way of finding him.

Though Harry did not miss his Occlumency lessons with Snape one bit, he didn't seem to be fairing much better with Lupin. The only difference was his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a lot more empathetic towards him, and didn't make him feel more stupid then he already did for not being able to repel his efforts at breaking into his mind. That only served to increase his frustration because he had already endured countless torturous hours of lessons with Snape and he still found himself on the ground on all fours, gasping at the memories of himself as a child in the Dursley home he just been forced to relive. Whenever he seemed to make a little progress, it wouldn't take his teacher long before he was able to break through the barriers he had put up in his mind.

"Harry, you're doing fine," Lupin told him. "You've made considerable progress for someone who went nearly two months without any practice."

"If this Occlumency thing is so important why did Dumbledore let me go so long without practice?"

Lupin didn't miss that nearly every time he mentioned the Headmaster's name his tone seemed to be lacking in respect. "Harry, things are different when you're at the Dursley's. The barriers protecting that house cannot even be penetrated by Legilimency, no matter how powerful the mind of the person using it," explained Lupin. "And I believe that Professor Snape had asked you before summer vacation to continuing practicing the mind exercises he had taught you," he added, raising a pointed eyebrow at Harry.

Harry couldn't quite bring himself to meet his professor's gaze. Snape had told him he had best keep up his practicing otherwise he would be able to tell when they started up the lessons again. But the news about the prophecy combined with his hatred of Snape and the death of Sirius, he hadn't given the Potion Masters warning a second thought. It was clear to Lupin that he hadn't heeded to the warning either.

"It's essential that you master Occlumency, Harry," Lupin said, trying to press on him the importance of it.

"I know," Harry responded dejectedly, wringing his hands through his hair. He could fight off the Imperious Curse but couldn't keep someone from seeing into his thoughts. It was beyond frustrating.

"I think the problem is you have too much going on in your head – not that I blame you – but it's keeping you from being able to focus. You need to let go of your anger."

"Snape already told me I needed to do that."

"_Professor_ Snape is quite right about that," Lupin said patiently. "Your frustrations are what are hindering your progress, so I think we need to try something else." He walked over to his open briefcase and pulled out a tattered looking book from it. "Meditation is a muggle practice that clears the mind and leaves it in a state of relaxation. It's a mental exercise that over time helps strengthen the natural barriers surrounding the brain. I want you to practice meditating every night before you go to sleep. When we meet here again on Thursday I'll check on your progress."

He handed the book off to Harry, who immediately shoved it into his school bag.

"Harry, I know Occlumency isn't fun," Lupin began, his voice taking on a softer tone now, "and I hate having to put you through this, but it could very well save your life one day and the lives of those you care about."

He didn't need Lupin to remind him of that. He knew what was at stake. Sirius was dead because of his inability to master Occumlecy and If Voldemort got strong enough there would be nothing to stop him from taking control of his body and force him to do unspeakable things. For that reason alone, he knew he was going to have to try a lot harder to master Occlumency. He didn't want to become any more of a danger then he already was to the people he cared about.

"How many Aurors are there here at the school?" He asked Lupin.

"Aside from Moody, I haven't been informed as to how many there are," Lupin told him. "No one aside from Dumbledore and select members of the ministry know because there were not many Aurors to spare to begin with," he said gravely. "You won't read about it in the _Daily Prophet_ but the Auror numbers have been steadily decreasing in the last year. Moody has made the screening process so stringent you have to be near perfect to get in. They have to take such drastic measures because of what happened last time Voldemort came into power. Several Aurors turned out to be double agents working for him, and revealed vital information causing the deaths of dozens of Aurors. That's why Moody has been so against taking anyone on since Voldemort resurfaced. To my knowledge there's only been one new Auror since you started Hogwarts."

Lupin didn't come out and say it, nor did he have to, but Harry knew how much was riding on him to master Occlumency. He wasn't going to make the same mistake he made last year, naively pursuing his dreams without any thought of the consequences. No one else was going to die because he let Voldemort plant false images in his mind. Sirius would be the only one to pay for his impulsive behaviour.

Another, much more personal reason Harry needed to be able to better defend his mind was so Lupin wouldn't see what was going on between himself and a certain other Hogwarts Seeker. He didn't really know where any of it was leading, but he certainly didn't want his professor having a look at his personal life if he could help it.

Ron had certainly been right about the next move being his. He hadn't spoken a word to Cho in several days. They would sometimes see each other passing through the halls but they never stopped to talk. She was almost always surrounded by her group of friends anyways and he didn't want to approach her so openly.

He had considered Hermione's advice of not doing anything. Of course, he never told her this, largely because he knew that she was right. But then he started thinking what Hermione didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He was tired of going around feeling nothing but a horrible ache in the pit of his stomach, and that was what had led him to his current position. He was standing outside the classroom he knew the seventh year Ravenclaws to have Transfiguration in. Having been let out of his Charms lesson a few minutes early, he decided to wait outside her classroom for. He hung close enough to the shadows that once her class was dismissed, he hoped that no one would pay him much attention.

The classroom door nearest him swung open and students were filing out into the hallway. When he saw her, he called her name as loud as he dared. She looked surprised to see him there. She waited until the rest of her classmates were gone before pulling him inside the vacant classroom with her.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to speak to me again," she said with a shy smile.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes, hoping to hide how nervous he was. "I wasn't really sure what to say."

"That makes two of us."

"I don't even know what I'm doing here," he said, fumbling for words.

She stepped closer to him, saying, "I think you do."

Realizing what was about to happen, he grabbed both her hands to stop her. "What about Michael?" Damn his stupid morals for kicking in. Just for once he wish he could ignore them.

"I care about Michael," she answered, looking up at him, "but I care about you too, Harry."

He released his grip on her hands and this time when she leaned in to kiss him his morals were nowhere to be found.


	9. The Apology

CHAPTER NINE: The Apology

Perched on his broomstick high above the action going on beneath him, Harry squinted in the sunlight, trying to find the small fluttering object that had eluded his sights thus far. The blinding sunlight kept casting reflections off of everything, resulting in premature movements on his part to investigate if any of them were the Snitch. So far it had only belonged to glittering objects in the stands or it was the goal posts casting off reflections. Though he knew he should have spotted the Snitch by now he wasn't overly worried. Gryffindor was in complete control of the game. The chasers, especially Ginny had scored five times before Hufflepuff had even got their first shot on Ron. They were much better prepared then Hufflepuff, who Harry thought actually had a pretty good squad this year – but they had not had the amount of practices that Gryffindor had. Katie had booked as much pitch time as she could, largely because she wanted to get some practice time in for Ron who had been unable to attend the first month of Saturday practices due to his morning detentions. It had also helped to Dean develop his skills more and learn the style of play of the Chasers, as Katie had selected him to fill the vacant position.

With practiced ease, he moved himself out of the path of a Bludger, coming to a stop near the top Hufflepuff's three goalposts just as the Hufflepuff chasers scored their third goal of the match. Gryffindor was still up by sixty points, but Harry would much rather end the match now with the score the way it was. He scanned the playing field in front of him. He nearly dismissed the glinting object near the stands as the gold on a Gryffindor banner, but when the object started fluttering away from the stands he knew he had at last spotted the Snitch. He flew towards it, risking looking over his shoulder to see if the other Seeker had noticed it as well. He had, but he hadn't gotten the jump-start that Harry had and even with the speed he was putting on now his chances of getting there before Harry were slim.

Harry was so close that he outstretched his right arm to scoop it up into his palm, when two Bludgers came flying his way. He put his Firebolt into a dive to keep from being hit, hearing the cries of disappointment from the Gryffindor side of the stands. When he came back around to the spot he had last seen the Snitch it had already disappeared again. But Gryffindor's disappointment turned itself into cheers of excitement as Katie passed the Quaffle to Ginny, who put another one passed the Hufflepuff keeper.

While Hufflepuff was attempting to reorganize itself, Harry caught sight of the fluttering object hovering just above the center field line markings. He broke into a steep almost nose dive, coaxing as much speed out of his Firebolt as he could. He didn't chance looking up to see if the other Seeker was following. He was going to need his full concentration to keep himself from crashing headfirst into the ground. The way the Hufflespuffs in the stand erupted into cheers to rival the Gryffindor ones, told Harry the other Seeker was close behind him.

He miscalculated and pulled out of his nose dive a split second too late, the back of his broom scraping the surface of the ground and causing him to lose momentum. The Snitch was streaking away and he had to push his Firebolt beyond the limits that were safe in an effort to keep up. He couldn't lose sight of it a second time.

He was closing the gap, his broom shaking and vibrating violently beneath him. His Firebolt was old by Quidditch standards. On the other House teams the Seekers used a new broom every season, having worn them out from sharp turns and over use of speed. But Harry was confident his Firebolt could still get the job down. It didn't let him down as his wide-open palm clamped over the fluttering object. He tightened his fingers into a fist to ensure it wouldn't escape, while he slowed his speed until he was able to bring himself to a complete stop.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle to signal the game was over, and the dejected sounds of defeat from the Hufflepuffs was drowned out by cheering from the Gryffindors. Harry's team flew down to congratulate him. Their first win of the season had been a spectacular one. The only thing that brought down Harry's euphoric state from winning was when Ron indicated to his broom that lay forgotten in his hand. He had destroyed most of the twigs on the back of it, and even if he used his broom maintenance kit, it would still be well beyond his ability to repair it.

"It could be worse," said Ron, being the optimist for a change. "There's no practice next week since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, so you can just buy a new broom then."

"I guess I'm going to have to," Harry said, grimacing as he looked down at the partially destroyed Firebolt in front of him.

"The new Firebolt line came out last spring," Ron informed him. "You could get one of those."

Harry knew his friend was just trying to cheer him up, but only having mild success. His Firebolt represented the last connection he had to Sirius and now he would have to toss it away like some common piece of trash. He tried to hide how much the thought of it bothered him. He didn't want to be the one to bring down the victory celebration still going on in the common room, even though it was well into the evening now.

"It's probably about time I got a new one anyways," he said, keeping his tone indifferent.

"Maybe if you took it to Madame Hooch there might be something she could do," Hermione suggested.

Harry doubted that very much, but he appreciated her suggestion all the same. Their conversations had been limited and tense lately, but it seemed like she was making an effort to break the ice between them.

"It really was a good match today," she congratulated him.

"Thanks," he said in return.

With those words that signaled the end of the silent argument they had been caught up in. He was glad for that because he truly hated fighting with her. He would never be okay with arguing with her all the time the way Ron was, but he supposed that was just the way their relationship worked.

"Ron and I should get going," said Hermione, standing up. "It's our turn to do patrol."

Ron let out an exasperated sigh. "Can't we just skip it? Who's going to know if we didn't do it?"

She glared at him. "_I'll_ know."

"I haven't even had a chance to shower yet," he complained. "I'm still in my Quidditch robes."

"Ron, this is part of the prefect responsibilities."

Rolling his eyes, he hauled himself to his feet. He did not want to be on the receiving end of another McGonagall-like lecture. He grumbled a good bye to Harry before walking towards the portrait hole where Hermione was impatiently waiting for him.

When the portrait hole had closed shut behind them and it was the two of them alone in the hallway, he again tried to get out of their weekly duty of roaming the halls, checking for students out passed curfew and any other suspicious activity. He knew it wouldn't change anything, but he liked doing it just to get a rise out of her.

"I think someone is taking her prefect responsibilities a little too much to heart. You're starting to sound like Perc – "

He was cut off in mid sentence when Hermione pressed her lips forcibly against his mouth. He was in such a state of shock that by the time he responded to it she was already pulling away.

He stared at her, completely dumbstruck. It wasn't often that Ron Weasley was caught speechless.

"I'm sorry about the way I've been acting towards you. I should have listened to you about Harry."

"Come again?" His brain still wasn't quite up to normal speed.

"I was being unfair and judgmental. I really wasn't being a good friend to him at all. I don't agree with some of the decisions he's making, but Harry has to make his own choices so I should respect that."

"And this is?"

"An apology," she said, leaning in closer to him.

This time when her lips met his own he was ready for it, burying his hands in her hair and pulling her closer. If he had known making up with her would be this good, he would have been the one to apologize days ago just so they could be doing this. Out passed curfew when they should have been patrolling the halls, when instead he was backed up against the stone wall with Hermioine pressed up against him.

When they broke apart to catch their breath, he said with a wry smile, keeping his hands resting on her hips, "does this mean that whole show back there about patrolling was just for Harry's benefit?" Up until a few moments ago he had never before appreciated what an amazing liar she was.

"No, we still have to do the sweep through the school," she said, watching his face fall, "but we can put it off for a little while. Who's going to know if we're a little late in doing it?" She said and flashed him a mischievous grin.

This was a side of her he was not used to seeing – and he liked it. She took his hand and started leading him away.

"Where are we going?"

"Don't you trust me, Ron?"

She flashed him that smile again and he knew whatever she had planned was far better then the how he had pictured his evening five minutes earlier.

She was leading him down a relatively familiar path, but he still had no idea what their destination was until Hermione made him walk back and forth in front of the same piece of wall three times, her face a mask of deep concentration. On her third walk-by a causing a polished looking door to appear. He still couldn't believe where she had brought him even as her hand seized the brass handle and she was leading him inside.

The Room of Requirement looked as cozy and inviting as he had ever seen it. Its walls were no longer lined with bookcases full of Defense Against the Arts texts and magical instruments as it had been during every one of their DA meetings. There was a fire burning in one corner, surrounded by two oversized comfy chairs and a cozy looking couch, with a large worn looking rug with a picture of a griffin on it in between them. The only other light came from the few torches mounted up on the walls. The room bore a striking resemblance to the Gryffindor Common room.

"You really do go all the way when you want to shock a bloke," he breathed.

Her face burned bright red with embarrassment. "I can't believe I brought you here," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

He came up behind her and put his hands around her waist. "Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he said, bringing his head to rest on her shoulder. "Hell, if I had known you were going to do all this I would have made more of an effort at being right over the years."

She swatted at his arm. "Ron, that's not funny," but she was laughing as she said it. She turned around in his arms so she was facing him. She finally understood what the other girls had been talking about when they mentioned making up with their boyfriends was the best part about being in a relationship. Hold on a minute. Had she just actually admitted that Ron was her boyfriend? They had never made any sort of formality for what they were doing, but she supposed that was the correct word for it.

He was watching her closely. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

He chuckled. "I know that look. The way your eyes move when you're trying to sort out some kind of complicated problem. Am I that complicated?"

"No, not really," she murmured as he brought his face down to meet hers.

"Good," he said before he claimed her mouth with his own. With little effort he managed to move them backwards until they fell on the oversized sofa with Hermione landing on top of him. She looked uncertain at the position they had gotten themselves in, but he did his best to reassure her.

"If you're uncomfortable, we don't have do to this," he told her, and he meant it. The last thing he wanted was to pressure her into something she wasn't ready for.

"I'm fine," she said, resting her hands on his chest.

"You sure?" He asked, pushing back a strand of hair that had fallen in her face.

She nodded her assurance and closed her mouth over his, trying to erase his doubts about her. As her lips moved along his and Ron let his hands roam along her sides, she began thinking perhaps there wasn't any harm in skipping patrol for one night. She was sure Ron wouldn't be too broken up about it.

While Oliver had mostly been into strategy and tactics, and making the Gryffindor team get up at an ungodly hour to practice, Katie had done away with early morning practices but had kept the strategy and planning parts and incorporated something new into the mix. She decided it was time to focus on the physical training aspect. She thought that having everyone physically fit would improve their play even more. At first, no one could understand why she had even suggested it, since they were on their brooms the whole time, but she had explained it would help them with maneuverability and they would move faster if there was less weight on the broom. To show them how serious she was about the whole team being in better shape, they usually spent one practice a week just running around the pitch and doing a few other cardio exercises. The grumbling was down to a minimum now, and what had helped was telling them they would be better mentally and physically prepared then the other House teams.

This had all started two weeks ago, and there was still a lot of progress to be made. Harry would never be able to understand how a team that had won the Quidditch Cup last year could be so horribly out of shape. He had a feeling Katie was going to change all that, or die trying.

Ron and he were jogging side by side and were coming close to lapping Ginny.

"Hey Gin, you might want to hurry it up a bit," Ron panted.

She ignored him and continued jogging.

"You know, if you were in a bit better shape you might score a few more goals," he taunted her.

She gave him a nasty look. "And if you were in a bit better shape you might save a few more."

Harry increased his speed so Ron wouldn't see him sharing a smile with Ginny. He didn't think he would ever understand how they could be at each other's throats one minute and the next act like nothing had happened. He suspected he never would, not having any siblings of his own to trade insults with. The closest he had ever gotten to a brother was Dudley, but if Harry had ever said anything remotely resembling an insult to his cousin as they were growing up Dudley had made him pay for it. A lot of the time he didn't even need to say a word. Dudley had always been looking for excuses to pick on him.

"So what's it like?" Ron asked, having caught back up with him.

"What's what like?"

"Whatever's going on with you and Cho," he clarified.

They were far enough away from everyone else that Harry felt comfortable talking about it without having to worry about anyone overhearing them. "It's all right," he begun. "It's like being her boyfriend except without all that responsibility. It's like I'm getting the best parts of it. Okay, so maybe it's a lot better than just all right." He knew how bad that sounded but it was the truth.

Ron was grinning at him in admiration. "So is she going to break up with Michael?"

"I don't know, but I guess at this point it doesn't really matter."

Talking was at a minimum after that because it was becoming difficult to keep up a decent pace and have a conversation at the same time. Katie made them keep at it for another twenty minutes and then called everyone in to do a cool down and some stretches before calling the practice.

The team dragged their tired bodies back up to the castle, but Harry noticed with some satisfaction that no one was complaining or stumbling with exhaustion.

He and Ron made it back to Gryffindor Tower before collapsing into seats at the table Hermione was currently occupying. She had three books spread out in front her and was scribbling furiously. She stopped writing when they joined her.

"Good practice?" She asked them both.

"Exhausting as always," Ron returned, grinning. He casually lifted her hand up off the parchment to make it seem like he was interested in what she was doing, when he really just wanted an excuse to touch her.

"Ron, you're all sweaty from practice!" She shrieked, pulling her hand away.

Without thinking, he said, "you didn't seem to mind that yesterday when we were – " Hermione's eyes widened in alarm and he realized what he was saying. " – when we were doing our prefect patrol," he recovered. "You all but dragged me out of here in my Quidditch robes."

Hermione's face was scarlet and Ron's ears were red. Hermione looked down at her schoolwork so Harry wouldn't be able to see how red her face was, but he wasn't even looking at her. He was watching something else.

"Looks like Dean and Ginny are speaking again," said Harry.

Ron looked up and followed his friend's gaze. His lips curled into a frown when he saw his sister and Dean standing by the stairs in their Quidditch robes, locked in an intense conversation.

"She better not be trying to work things out with him," he grumbled.

"Ginny can make her own decisions, Ron," Hermione reminded him.

Ron grunted some kind of incoherent response and narrowed his eyes at the two people by the stairs. "I think I'm going to take a shower now," he announced, standing up.

"Don't interfere, Ron," Hermione warned, knowing the only reason he was taking one now was so he could walk by the two of them.

"I won't," he told her. "I plan on walking by without saying a word." He meant that, but that didn't mean he was going to walk by without giving Dean a look that would haunt him in his sleep.

Hermione and Harry watched him pass by without incident. He did pause briefly on the bottom of the stairs to shoot Dean a warning look and then walked up the stairs.

"Are you coming into Hogsmeade with us this weekend?" Hermione asked Harry.

He gave her a strange look. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought maybe you might have plans with Cho."

He gave a guilty start, but tried to cover it up. "Why would I have plans with her?"

"You think I don't know what you and Ron stop talking about as soon as I enter a room?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

He should have figured he never would have been able to hide anything from her.

"I'm not going lecture you about it," she said to him.

"That's good to know." He suddenly felt a lot less comfortable about what he was doing with Cho then when he had been talking with Ron back out on the Quidditch pitch.

"Are you happy with her?" She asked.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"It's a simple one." She knew she was taking a big risk by saying what she was going to say next, but he needed to hear it. "I think you're trying to use Cho as an excuse to forget about Sirius."

Harry's eyes became dangerous slits. "No offense, Hermione, but you don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do," she said, not backing down. She wasn't trying to push him and the last thing she wanted was to be in a row with him again, but she couldn't just sit by and watch him like this.

"Do you think I enjoy sneaking around with her? I don't even know what the hell I feel for her. You're right, she's just a distraction. But when I'm with her I forget what a shit mess my life is and that Sirius would still be alive if I hadn't fucked up Occlumency!" Raging with grief and anger, he stormed off for the stairs leading to the boys dorm and disappeared.

Cho still couldn't quite understand Harry not wanting to use the Room of Requirement, aside from the obvious reason that he was avoiding anything to do with the DA. She had cared for Harry for a long time, but certain circumstances had prevented them from getting a real chance at being together. He had been so distant and withdrawn at the end of last year, she had assumed he wasn't interested in her the way she thought he was and had moved on to Michael Corner. She cared about Michael a great deal, but there was something about Harry that she was drawn to.

They made a habit of meeting a few nights a week at different spots throughout the castle, but on that particular night she wondered why he had even bothered to show up. His head was obviously else where, and after a while when it became clear his mood wasn't going to change she called him on it.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to," she said to him.

They were in the locker room, knowing that with no games and no practices that day, it was a relatively safe place to be alone without worrying about anyone finding them.

"I want to be here," Harry said, a pathetic attempt to sound convincing.

"I should probably go," she said, removing herself from where she stood pressed up against Harry next to a set of lockers. "I've got a six foot parchment for Flitwick I need to get started on."

Harry sighed in frustration. "Cho, come on."

He was going to have to do better than that to get her to stay. "I'll see you later, Harry." She picked up her cloak off the floor and started to leave.

"Look, I had a fight with Hermione, all right?" He said before she could take more than a few steps.

She gave him an incredulous look. "So you're here with me but you're thinking about her?"

He couldn't understand what she was getting so upset about, but her attitude had an almost exact resemblance to the way she had acted last year when they had gone together to that tea house in Hogsmeade on Valentine's. He had been supposed to meet up with Hermione at the Hogs Head and Cho had all but gone off the handle about it. "I'm just telling you the reason why I may not be in the best of moods."

"It's always something with her, isn't it?" She said, irritated.

"She's one of my best friends, Cho," he tried to reason with her.

"Sometimes I wonder if she isn't more than that," she said to him. "I feel like no matter what I do I can't compete with her."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she began, starting towards the door, "that maybe you should be here with her instead of me."

She walked out, leaving behind a very confused Harry.


	10. Mistake

CHAPTER TEN: Mistake

The first weekend of November would mark the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year. Harry, who had been so preoccupied with schoolwork and other things, had almost forgotten the main reason he had been looking forward to going was because he needed a new broom. His desperate need for a replacement for his Firebolt had taken a backseat in recent days, as his thoughts seemed to focus on something new entirely. It felt strange to catch himself thinking about such things. He had never before allowed his thoughts to wonder so frequently about something that was absolutely absurd and impossible. He did not like Hermione – he couldn't like her, could he? But that seemed to be all he was capable of thinking about since Cho had all but accused him of having feelings for his best friend. He had denied it of course because it was ridiculous. Hermione was one of the closest people to him and he would do anything for her, but never before had he even considered that he harbored deeper feelings for her. But the longer he thought on it, the less farfetched it seemed to be. She knew him better than anyone else, except for maybe Ron, and she had been there with him through everything over the years. No matter how hard he tried pushing her away, she always pushed back equally as hard. Now he found himself watching her in this completely different light. How she would concentrate on a book she was ready, the way she behaved in class and bite her bottom lip when she was nervous or worried – it was as if he was seeing her do all these things for the first time. He couldn't believe how oblivious he had been. She really was quite beautiful. What he didn't understand was how he had never noticed this before. He attributed that to the fact that he had been so wrapped up in Cho over the last three years he hadn't really noticed many other girls. Now, whenever he was around her he wasn't sure how to act. Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.

They had a table to themselves in the common room, as it was still early in the evening and most of Gryffindor was still at dinner. Harry would have liked nothing more than to still be down in the Great Hall with Ron and everyone else, but he had ignored his Arithmancy essay for the better part of the week and Hermione continuously nagging at his side that he better get started on it since it was a Hogsmeade weekend eventually had the desired effect and he caved. He wasn't doing terribly well in that class either, which didn't come as a shock since he didn't know what he was doing half the time. Why had he decided to pick being curse breaker as one of his career options? He should have picked something simpler, like a muggle liason or a troll trainer.

His mind started to wonder, which had become the norm of late. He risked looking at her while she was absorbed in her Arithmancy homework. Too late to look away, she caught him staring and gave him a funny look.

"You've been looking at me strangely all week," she said, looking at him. "Did I do something?"

Shit. She _had_ noticed him staring at her. His life was already screwed up enough as it was and here he was entertaining the kind of thoughts about Hermione that he would never admit out loud to anyone. She was his best friend, which made it even more wrong. "You haven't done anything," he responded a bit too quickly and went back to his work.

"Do you want me to look over what you have so far?" She asked, pointing at his half written page of parchment.

He passed it to her and she began checking over what he had written. Her quill scratched noisily, crossing things out and adding things in. A minute later she handed it back to him, saying, "that's really good, Harry. You got the order right. You just named the pattern wrong and left out a few points. I wrote them in for you, so all you have to do is just write it over when you're done."

He supposed that meant he was learning, which was an improvement all on its own, but he didn't think he'd be able to write another foot and a half on the Greek numeric system of the fifteenth century. Regardless, he opened his text to the index page and began skimming through it for any information to do with his topic.

"Are you meeting Cho in Hogsmeade tomorrow?" She sounded genuinely interested, and not like she wanted to start an argument with him.

"Even if we were talking you know we can't," he said looking up from his open book.

Hermione's expression became one of surprise at this news. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Hermione, you don't have to pretend to care, because I know you don't approve of what we're doing."

"I may not approve but I still care about you, Harry."

He still wasn't sure how comfortable he felt discussing Cho with her. It almost always seemed to lead to an argument.

"What was it about?"

"What was what about?" He asked.

"The reason you aren't speaking to her."

"It's more like she's not speaking to me," he told her.

"That still doesn't explain why you two aren't talking."

"Hermione, it's private," he said, his tone sharper then he intended it to be. He cursed inwardly. "Look, its just I don't think you really want to know is all."

"Harry, if you don't want to tell me that's fine." There was no trace of anger in her voice as she spoke. "I just thought that you might want a female perspective on things. I understand if you would rather have the advice of someone more experienced, like Lavender or Parvati – "

"It was about you," he blurted out, not looking at her.

Hermione stopped her ramblings and gave him a baffled look.

"She said some rubbish like she couldn't compete with you and that maybe I should be with you instead," he plunged on, still focusing on anything but her.

They had fought about her? How could Cho even think Harry was interested in her? "Well Cho's obviously wrong, Harry. I know how you feel about her. Honestly, she has no reason to feel threatened by me." _She's just probably starting to feel guilty for what she's doing_, she added silently.

"How can you know what I feel for when I don't even know that?" He questioned her. "It's like what you said, I'm just using her, right?"

She flinched at the harshness in his voice. "Harry, it's like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Once she said those things to you, you were bound to start thinking about it. But you don't like me, Harry, you know that don't you?"

"Of course," he answered, and he couldn't quite meet her gaze as he said it.

Neither one of them mentioned it again after that. In fact, they didn't speak much at all. Though he was struggling miserably to write his essay, he couldn't bring himself to ask for her help. When he would finally turn in for the night, he wouldn't have more than a few lines written on top of what he already had.

The newly opened Quidditch supply store in Hogsmeade was full of Hogwarts students of all different ages on that Saturday morning. Ron had to push his way through the hoards of students blocking aisles and ogling over merchandise. He only wished he had the money to buy a few of the things he spotted in there. There were a few bits of Keeper equipment he wouldn't have minded getting, but he tore himself away from that to help Harry pick out a new broom. He stood by his friend's side, offering whatever advice he could based on what he had read in his _Quidditch Weekly_ magazines.

"It got top ratings from the Holland and Romanian seekers" he was telling Harry about the Nimbus line he was currently inspecting. "But the new Firebolt line is supposed to be made speficically for Seekers."

Harry put back the Nimbus and picked up the Firebolt, holding it by its sleek handle. He looked at the price tag and swallowed, glad for the first time that Hermione hadn't come over to look at the brooms with them. She would probably lecture there were far better things he could spend his money on, while he would be forced to disagree. Of course the Firebolt's had almost doubled in price since he had gotten his first one three years ago.

"I heard Jeffery Davis from Ravenclaw bought a Nimbus 2004 and just made some adjustments to it. It's supposed to be close to a Firebolt in speed now."

"So he just upgraded his broom?" Harry asked, putting down the Firebolt and picking up the newest Nimbus model again.

"Loads of professional players do it," Ron told him, "they just don't say anything about it because they don't want to have their broom investigated by the league. Not all modifications are legal."

Harry began to give Ron's idea serious contemplation. The Nimbus was nearly half the price of the Firebolt. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to spend that kind of money on a broom, he just wasn't sure if he wanted another Firebolt. It would never have the same meaning for him as his other one had.

Ron picked up a box lying on the shelf beside the brooms labeled, _Magical Broom Upgrading Kit – for the Hands On Quidditch Player_. "It doesn't look too complicated," he said, skimming over the writing on the outside of the box. "I could give you a hand with it. If it works, maybe I'll see about asking mum for one of these for Christmas."

He tossed the box over to Harry who began reading the instructions on the box more carefully than Ron had. "Where did Hermione go?" He put extra emphasis on examining the box as he spoke.

"She's got to be around here somewhere," said Ron. "She's been acting kind of off this morning. Have you noticed?"

"Really?" Harry said, still not looking at him.

"It's probably nothing," said Ron without concern. "Listen, why don't you keep looking here and I'll find her. When you're done we can head over to Honeydukes."

Harry agreed and Ron left him to search for Hermione. In a Quidditch store, it didn't take him long to find her. She was obviously out of her element here. Where every one else roamed the store with great excitement, the only way to describe Hermione was bored. She was leafing uninterestingly through a Quidditch book called _Greatest Defensive Tactics of Our Time _when he approached her from behind. He took great care to make sure no one was paying them any attention before slipping his arms around her waist.

"You must be hard up for something to read if you're looking at that," he said with a grin.

She appeared startled by his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered. She placed the book back on the shelf where she had gotten it from.

Ron's grin disappeared. There definitely was something off with her. Her lack of a witty comeback was evidence of that. "Hey, what's going on with you?"

"What makes you think there's something going on?"

"Well for starters you came in here without so much as a protest."

"You make it sound like I think Quidditch is some kind of dreadful sport," she said shortly, not sure why she was being snippy towards him. Ron hadn't done anything.

"Hermione, what's really going on?"

"Nothing," she said unconvincingly. "I just have a lot of schoolwork I need to get to and the sooner we're done here the sooner I can get going on it."

"Fine, whatever," he said annoyed, letting his hands drop to his sides. "Harry's just finishing up and then we can go."

"I'll be waiting outside."

Ron didn't even bother with a response as she left him standing there.

She welcomed the cold breeze that hit her face when she stepped outside. She knew how frustrated he probably was by her attitude, and she really wished she hadn't acted like that. He was just being concerned and she had basically snapped his head off for it. She wasn't even sure why she was acting this way. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Her conversation with Harry the previous night had left her more rattled then she cared to admit. While she had been the one to encourage him to talk about it, she had not been expecting for him to tell her what he had. She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that someone like Cho Chang was worried she was going to steal Harry away from her. It was absurd. She certainly didn't feel _that_ way about him. Her feelings for Harry were strong, but they were nothing like what she felt for Ron. She had never suspected Harry had anything less than platonic feelings for her. However, she wasn't totally blind, and had not missed the way he had been looking at her all week – like he was seeing that she was a girl for the first time.

It was then the door to the shop swung open and Harry stepped out, his newly purchased broom and a small rectangular box under one arm, but he was alone. He saw her standing there, and unsure of what to do, stayed where he was.

"So you got the one you wanted?" She said asked him

"Yeah," he replied. "I think Ron and I are going to try the modifications I bought for it after dinner."

She didn't even bother asking what he meant by 'modifications.' "Where is Ron?"

"He's drooling over this new Quidditch strategy game they just put out."

She nodded to show she had heard him, and turned her gaze to watch the students and other witches and wizards walking through the streets.

"You're angry with me," Harry said suddenly.

She still wouldn't look at him. "No, I'm not."

"Well then you're not happy with me. I can tell that much."

"It's not that, Harry," she said truthfully. "I saw Cho walk in earlier," she said, abruptly changing the subject.

He kicked at a loose rock on the ground. "I saw her too. She was with Michael."

"You should really try and patch things up with her."

His expression became puzzled. She had never wanted him to get involved with her in the first place and now, here she was encouraging him to make up with her. "I don't think that's going to happen," he told her.

"You're not still thinking about what she said, are you, Harry?"

He shoved his hands in jacket pocket, but didn't reply. She realized it was going to be up to her to put a stop to this once and for all.

"Harry, you don't – " She cut herself off when a group of third years came bursting out of the shop door beside them. She grabbed his jacket and dragged him down the empty alley at the side of the shop. "You don't fancy me Harry. You can't."

"Why not?" He mentally slapped himself. _Way to go, Potter. You're just making this way more uncomfortable and awkward then it already is_.

She appeared genuinely startled by his question. "Because it can't – because we're friends. Best friends, but that's all."

He was keeping his expression so carefully guarded she couldn't read him at all. She wondered if now would be a good time to tell him about her and Ron. She knew she should probably wait for Ron so they could tell him together, but he needed to understand why they could never be more than friends. "Harry, Ron and I – "

Before she could get any further Harry's lips were on hers. Her brain started screaming at her that this was Harry – that this was Harry she was letting kiss her! She pushed him away, not believing what she had allowed to happen – what she should have seen coming and stopped before it happened.

Whistling and catcalls from the entrance way to the alley made her spin around. She felt her stomach plunge when she saw the source of it to be Malfoy, along with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson.

"Just when I was starting to think you had taste, Potter, I see you've slipped to an ultimate low," Malfoy leered. "How desperate are you?"

"Shove off, Malfoy, I'm warning you," said Harry dangerously.

Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle all snickered.

"I really don't think you want to threaten me," Malfoy said, completely un-phased. "I'll have you and that pathetic filth," he started, glaring loathingly at Hermione, "begging for your lives faster than you can say 'mudblood.'"

"The only pathetic person here is you, Malfoy," Hermione said coldly. "You're a sad and disgusting excuse for a human being who's going to get what's coming to him."

"You're right. I think I'm going to get sick from watching the two of you snog like that," he said, a repulsive look on his face. He turned to his friends, saying, "I don't care what Potter says. He has to be desperate if he's fucking _that_."

Harry's wand was out and in his hand in an instant. He didn't care that he could get expelled for what he wanted to do to Malfoy. As fast as he was, someone else was faster. Malfoy was tackled to the ground by a person with flaming red hair.

"You fucking bastard!" Ron yelled, pummeling the Slytherin with his fist. He had gotten in three good swings before Crabbe and Goyle finally came out of their stunned state and pulled him off. Despite their size, Ron shoved them away from him. With Malfoy laying in a moaning heap on the floor and unable to give them any orders, they backed off.

Ron stayed around long enough to glance at his two best friends before storming off in a rage. Hermione and Harry took off after him.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled after him.

She caught up with him and grabbed a hold of his arm to make him stop. He shoved her roughly making her fall back into Harry.

"What Malfoy said – "

"I don't need you to repeat what that bastard said!" He shouted, spinning around to face her.

"Ron, it's not true!" she said desperately.

"Any of it?" He glanced at Harry and then back to her. Their guilty looks was all the confirmation he needed.

"It was a mistake," she pleaded. Her head was spinning at how quickly everything had gotten so horribly out of hand.

"A mistake?" He raged. "A mistake is forgetting to your homework or someone's birthday, not snogging your best friend in broad daylight for the whole fucking village to see!"

"Ron, Hermione's telling you the truth," said Harry, finally stepping in. "It was an accident. It just happened."

Ron turned eyes insane with rage on Harry. "Stay the fuck away from me," he growled. "Both of you," he added, turning his fury back on Hermione.

He turned his back on them and charged off, his feet pounding loudly with each step against the stone cobbled road.

Harry's mind was whirling. He had expected Ron to go off the handle on Malfoy like that, but not to them. He was missing something. Seeing the anguish and betrayal in Ron's eyes and the tears now falling down Hermione's face, he knew he was missing a lot.


	11. From Bad To Worse

A/N: For those of you that are worried this is going to turn into an H/Hr ship, believe me that will not happen.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: From Bad To Worse

Ginny wasn't sure what had made her agree to do an interview with Lavender for her Gryffin Life documentary. The documentary was only supposed to include the sixth year Gryffindors, so she was caught off guard when the older girl had approached her and asked if she would participate. At the time, Ginny hadn't been able to see why Lavender would want to include her, but the older girl had reasoned that Ginny spent quite a lot of time hanging around the sixth years and that it would provide both a valuable and different viewpoint to the documentary. Ginny had agreed to do it, though she had not known at the time what she would be getting herself into.

"There's only a year age difference between you and Ron," Lavender was saying, "has that helped you to remain close as siblings?"

Ginny gave a small laugh. "Well, it hasn't stopped him from being one of the biggest prats I know," she said, smiling at the thought of what Ron would say if he ever watched this. "But seriously, I think that out of all of my brother's I'm closest with Ron, not just because of age but because we understand each other the best."

"I know they're stuck in a row right now, but what do you think about the way Ron and Hermione's relationship has changed?

Ginny paused a moment before answering. It was no secret what had transpired at Hogsmeade, and now the rumors were flying about her brother and Hermione's relationship. Not speaking to each other was doing little to diminish the question that Harry had something to do with it. "I know he's been mad about her for ages, but was always too thickheaded to do anything about it," she finally said. "It's that same Weasley stubbornness that's keeping them apart right now. If he would just talk to her he would see she's just as in love with him as he is with her."

"What about Harry?" Lavender questioned. "He's pretty much the reason they aren't speaking, isn't he?"

Ginny frowned, briefly wondering how many of the rumours running rampant through the school the older Gryffindor had been responsible for. "I can't speak for him, but I don't think he wouldn't have kissed Hermione if he had known there was something going on between the two of them. He's not like that."

"Then how do you explain what happened with Cho Chang?" The older girl inquired.

Ginny should have seen that question coming. Once the incident at Hogsmeade had become common knowledge throughout the school, Cho had told Michael that she had been seeing Harry. Of course Michael had confronted Harry on the way to class one morning. Needless to say it had only added more fuel to the gossip already flying around Hogwarts. Fortunately the confrontation was broken up by Professor McGonagall before Michael could do little else but curse Harry out in front of a good portion of the school.

"It was different with Cho," she said after careful consideration. "Harry didn't know my brother and Hermione were together. With Cho, they both knew what they were doing. I think the only reason she told Michael was to use it as a way to get back at Harry."

Lavender nodded interestingly, seeming to accept her answer. "What about you? Is there anyone special in your life?"

"There was Michael Corner last year, but that didn't last, and I was seeing Dean Thomas over the summer but we broke up back in September."

"What about Harry Potter?"

Ginny felt her face go warm. "What about Harry?"

"It's common knowledge that you used to idolize him," said Lavender. "So did anything ever develop between you two?"

"Harry and I are just friends," she adamantly, not sure why she was getting defensive.

"He was the one who rescued you from the Chamber of Secrets back in your first year, correct?"

"Yes, that was him," she said nodding.

"Not many people know the truth about what happened down there, or about Tom Riddle's diary in general. Do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably in the armchair she was sitting in. "Professor Dumbledore had always encouraged me to talk about what happened, even if it was only with him, but I never took him up on that offer. I don't know, I suppose I thought that if I didn't talk about it no one else would. Of course that never happened, but when you're eleven you think like that."

"How do you think your experience with the Chamber of Secrets has changed you?"

"I suppose who I am today has a lot to do with what happened back then. I had a lot of trouble making friends with the other students in my year. No one wants to be friends with someone who had been possessed by You-Know-Who and set a basilisk on other students. I started hanging around my brother Ron more, and that's probably what started me hanging around the Gryffindors a year above me. For some reason it didn't seem to bother them as much what I had done."

"How did your family react?"

"In the beginning, I know they were just as frightened of me as I was of myself," Ginny admitted to her. "All I wanted was for them to trust me again. It took a long time but it happened. For a while, my mum was even contemplating pulling me out Hogwarts."

"What changed her mind?"

"Ron did," she answered, remembering it clearly. "He promised he would look out for me at school."

"What do you think now that You-Know-Who's back?"

She shrugged to buy herself some time to think about the question. "Everyone's saying this is the second war, and I think a lot of innocent people are going to die before this is over. It took long enough for the Ministry to take seriously what Dumbledore and Harry had been saying all along."

"Speaking of the ministry," Lavender started, looking down at her notes, "most people are saying Fudge's days are numbers. Your father's name has actually been mentioned several times in the _Daily Prophet_ as a possible candidate for the next Minister of Magic. What do you think of that?"

She beamed. "Dad deserves it. I don't think he had ever considered himself for the job, let alone that anyone would even want him to run. He hasn't really said much about it though."

Lavender nodded. "Back to You-Know-Who – there's a lot of talk going around about him and Harry, but I'd like to hear what you think. Do you believe Harry will be the one to stop him?"

"Yes," she replied unwaveringly. She was shocked at how quickly she had come to that conclusion. She hadn't even given it any real consideration before answering. "I mean he's the only person to ever survive the killing curse and he was just a baby. I think Harry knows too he'll have to be the one to stop him in the end."

Lavender stood up and turned off the camera. "Thanks, Ginny. I might need to ask you a few more questions later on when Pavarti and I edit this, but you were really good – really open and honest."

Ginny was just grateful that it was over. She had not anticipated the questioning would turn to when she had been controlled by Tom Riddle. Those were memories better left locked away. She hoped Lavender would cut a lot of it out. She didn't want to have to deal with the pitying looks being thrown her way just like after the first time it had happened. She especially hoped the last part would be cut out. She wasn't sure how Harry would react to her saying he would be responsible for bringing down the Dark Lord. He hated being painted as a hero, but that's not why she had said it. She had said it because it was what she honestly believed.

Once her interview for Gryffin Life was over, Ginny headed for the small kitchen area built opposite her muggle studies classroom. The kitchen was of simple muggle design and its use was intended for those enrolled in the muggle studies course. For her mid term project she was supposed to make a traditional muggle meal and present it to her professor first thing Monday morning. The time slot that had been made available to her was Sunday morning until noon. By the looks of it, it was going to take a miracle for her to finish during her allotted time.

She sighed at the mess in front of her that was supposed to be a roast beef dinner. The potatoes were way over cooked, and so was the roast. The only difference was the outside of the roast was blackened to a crisp and she couldn't even cut through to see if the meat was still edible on the inside. Then there was her yorkshire puddings which hadn't risen at all. They seemed to resemble flat circular disks.

Not for the first time that afternoon, she let out a low curse, which only served to amuse the person in the room with her further. She turned an icy glare on Harry, who stopped chuckling instantly. "You're not helping, Harry."

"I'm sorry," he said, though his tone clearly indicated he wasn't sorry at all. "I still don't understand why you wanted my help," he said, biting into an apple from where he sat on top of the counter.

"I thought that since you had to make all those meals for the Dursley's you might be able to help me with this."

"I didn't make gourmet meals like you're trying to do," he pointed out.

"You could still help," she said. "Whatever experience you have is more than I have. I've never had to make anything before without magic."

Harry had to will himself not to laugh at her failed dinner creation. "Why did you even take muggle studies in the first place?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… my dad's always been so fascinated with muggles, and Hermione made the whole thing sound rather interesting."

Harry snorted. "Hermione could make Arithmancy sound interesting if you listened to her long enough."

It was the first time Ginny had heard him mention Hermione's name in days. She hadn't forced him to talk about any of it because that never worked with Harry, and she had also wanted to avoid getting sucked in to the fight the trio was having, which was a lot harder then it looked. It was difficult to be friends with Harry and still be a sister to Ron, when they flat out refused to speak to one another and Ron would send her glowering looks whenever he saw her with Harry. She had never heard Harry's side of the story, only the outrageous rumours floating throughout the school, which she knew was more gossip and speculation then actual truth.

"Is that why you took it?" She asked him.

He shrugged and bit into his apple, not saying anything for several moments. "I needed another career option and curse breaking was the only other thing that sounded interesting. At least I won't have to take it next year. You only take courses in one designated career area in seventh year."

"I guess that's the kind of information your fan club would be interested in," she said with a knowing grin.

Harry scowled. "Shut it, Gin."

Since Cho had told Michael about Harry and everyone had learned he had kissed Hermione, more than half the girls in the school seemed to want to date him now that he had this _reputation_. A few had even been so bold as to approach him openly, but he had politely refused before hurrying away – at least through all the ones she had witnessed.

"As president of the original Harry Potter fan club, should I be worried?" She teased.

He tried to glare at her, but she could see the smile he was trying to hold back. "Shut it, Ginny. I mean it."

"You know, Harry, there are worse things then having a bunch of girls ogle you whenever you're in sight."

"Like not having your best friends speaking to you? Or each other, for that matter."

The teasing was over now, and Ginny watched as he tossed the remainder of his apple away with more force then was necessary.

"Have you tried talking to Ron?"

"What for? I'm sure he's much more interested in sending me to the hospital wing then listening to what I have to say."

"Is there any particular reason why he shouldn't?" She said boldly, watching his eyes widen in shock at her bold statement. "Since fourth year, its been blatantly obvious to anyone who knows Ron that he fancied Hermione," she continued. "As his best friend, you knew that better anyone, but you completely ignored that fact and kissed her anyways."

She didn't need to tell him what he already knew. He had always known Hermione was off limits, mainly because of Ron, but also because he had never wanted to do anything that would jeopardize their friendship. But he had completely ignored that sound reasoning and done it anyways. He would take the blame for what he had done, but he was not the only guilty party.

"They should have been honest about their relationship," he said in his defense. "They were sneaking around for months, with no intentions of telling me they were together!" He felt like an idiot. There had been so many subtle hints he had missed. The way Ron barely needed any prodding to go out on prefect patrol, or all the hours they had supposedly spent in the library studying or doing homework.

"Can you really blame them? Just look at how you're acting." She hadn't meant to take sides, but he needed a good hard dose of reality. "They didn't tell you because they knew you would feel abandoned, or even worse, betrayed. It doesn't make what they did right, but that also doesn't mean you get to be angry with them for how they feel. And if you're looking for someone to blame for what happened, you can start with yourself." Harry looked about ready to explode but she continued regardless. He needed to hear this. "What did you think was going to happen when it was just the two of them all summer? They did everything they could to get in touch with you, but you shut them out. _You _stopped writing, _you_ locked yourself in that room at the Dursley's so you could feel sorry for yourself. You knew things had been changing between them for a while now, and they were bound to figure it out for themselves sooner or later."

He sat there, his eyes were blazing but he didn't say a word. Her words hit him hard because they were the absolute truth. All that time he had spent pushing them away, he had really just been pushing the two of them together. He wanted to be happy for them, but he couldn't – not yet anyways.

"You're not angry because they're together, you're angry because you don't want to be alone. You think now that Ron and Hermione have each other they won't need you anymore. Could you be any thicker? Harry, you'll always be their best friend. That will never change."

Harry, who had quite enough of brutal honesty, hopped off the counter, fully intending to walk out of there, but Ginny wasn't finished yet.

"Do you want to know why you kissed Hermione?" She said to his retreating back.

"No, but I suppose you're going to tell me anyways," he snapped.

Ignoring his temper, she said, "you think that no one else will understand you the way she does. She's been with you through everything and she knows things about you that Cho never will."

"Your point?" He growled at her.

"The _point_," she stressed, "is that you don't feel about her the way you think you do – and I think you know that."

She matched his stare with one of her own, not backing down. As it was, Harry was the first one to break eye contact.

"You should make something simple," he said, looking away. "I could help you make kippers and eggs. I could make that in my sleep if I had to."

His offer was sincere, so she nodded her acceptance. They didn't talk much after that, but the silence wasn't tense like she was expecting it to be. Harry didn't look resentful for all those things she had said, and at least with his help she knew she wouldn't receive a failing grade on her project.

When it came time for Quidditch practice, it was only the third time Harry had been on his new Nimbus since he had bought it in Hogsmeade. He knew he should have spent more time getting accustomed to the feel and movement of it, instead of using his invisibility cloak to hide throughout the castle to hide from everyone and everything. Wandering out late at night had gotten to be a normal part of his routine that he no longer thought twice about sneaking out passed curfew. Once or twice he had spotted Ron or Hermione patrolling alone, but he would silently move on not giving his presence away.

Quidditch practices were difficult, but as of yet Katie hadn't commented on the mounting tension between Ron and himself. That was probably because she figured his bad-temperedness was due to the fact that he couldn't play in any of the matches, which in turn put Katie in a bad mood most of the time.

When Malfoy and his band of witnesses had reported what happened in Hogsmeade, Ron had been suspended from the Gryffindor team for the rest of the term. Gryffindor had one more match before the end of term and they were going to have to play it a man short. Since it would be next to impossible to win without a Keeper, Katie, who had the most experience out of any of them was filling Ron's position. That put them down a Chaser but there wasn't a whole lot they could do about it.

Under the watchful eye of Professor Flitwick, Katie called the practice an hour before dinner. When they were all in the locker room, she spoke to Harry first. "Potter, I want you on that new broom of yours every day before our next match against Slytherin. We're already down one player, we can't afford to have our Seeker flying a broom he hasn't had a chance to break in."

He assured her that he would. He hadn't added any of the upgrades to his broom yet. Ron had been supposed to help him with that, but now that they weren't talking Harry didn't feel all that interested in doing it himself.

"And Ron, I don't want to see you going soft," said Katie. "I want you at all our endurance practices."

Ron barely nodded his head before heading out of the locker room, not caring if Katie was finished with her post-practice speech or not. When he stepped outside he was more than a shocked to see Hermione standing there, her long coat pulled tightly around herself and her scarf blowing in the cold wind.

He had made a point of avoiding her whenever he could, even changing his morning routine by getting up a half hour earlier so he wouldn't have to see her before class. He hadn't talked to her, let alone looked her straight in the eye in days, and now here they were alone, outside in the freezing November weather.

She opened her mouth first but he beat her to the punch.

"Your boyfriend's still in there," he said sharply and began to walk away.

"Will you ever grow up, Ron?" She said to his back. "When are you going to stop acting like a child so we can talk about this?"

"Obviously you can't take a hint," he said, turning back around. "Because if you could you would know I don't want to talk about it."

She willed herself not to lose her temper, because that was probably what he was hoping for so they could have it out right there. She tried a different approach. "I thought McGonagall suspended you." Then again, bringing up his Quidditch suspension might not be a bright idea either.

"She did, but I guess she took pity on me or something because I'm still allowed to practice with the team."

"What about your prefect badge?" She had been dying to talk to him about that and everything else for days, but she hadn't had the nerve to say anything to him before now.

"She wouldn't take it," he told her. "Said I needed to learn responsibility and whatever," he finished with a shrug.

It was more than she could have hoped for that Ron was standing there, talking to her, but now that she finally had his attention she didn't know what else to say to him. It lasted only a brief moment but something flashed in his eyes that made her think he wanted to put this behind them as badly as she did. Then Harry emerged from the locker room then and destroyed any hopes Hermione had of patching things up with Ron. His expression became cold again and he stalked back to the castle, leaving her and Harry standing there.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Was all he could think of to say to her.

"We were trying to protect you," she answered.

That made him angry. She sounded like Dumbledore had last year, when he had said he kept making excuses to avoid telling him everything he needed to know. Hermione and Ron had done the exact same thing. "You weren't trying to protect me, you were trying to protect yourselves," he stated.

"Contrary to what you might believe, Harry," she said, her voice strangely calm, "we didn't enjoy hiding from you what was going on between us. We just didn't think you would understand."

"You're right, I don't understand how two people who claim to be my best friends can lie to my face every day," he said, his voice thick with betrayal.

"Harry, I'm sorry if you feel hurt or betrayed, but it's not like Ron or I planned any of this. It just happened." She wasn't sure what also she was supposed to say to make him understand they had not set out with the intention of betraying him. She had meant every word she had said to him. Ron was absolutely the last person she ever would have considered falling for. They were so different it was a wonder they hadn't strangled each other long ago.

"Ron and I would never make our relationship seem more important then the friendship that the three of has have. You do know that?" Though if Ron decided not to forgive either one of them they would have a completely different problem on their hands.

The locker room door swung open then and the Gryffindor beater, Jack Sloper, walked out. He took one look at Harry and Hermione alone and was probably already jumping to the wrong conclusion. Hermione cringed. Another rumour floating around the school was all they needed.

"I'm going to visit Hagrid," Harry announced then. He passed Hermione, and ignoring Sloper who was still watching them said, "I'm not okay with it… I – I need some time to think about everything."

He walked off wondering if he would ever be all right with what had happened between his friends. He supposed he wasn't angry with them for having those feelings, he was angry that they were moving forward with their lives and he was getting left behind.


	12. Casualties Of War

A/N: First off, thank you for all those reviews last chapter! I think that's the most I've had in a single chapter for this story yet. Secondly, sorry for the time lag in updates. Real life has been kind of insane lately, which means fan fiction was put on hold – I hate when real life gets in the way! I hope now I can go back to regular updates once a week.

CHAPTER TWELVE: Casualties Of War

It was late and Hermione sat alone in the common room reading ahead in her Ancient Runes text. On a regular night, she would have been in bed already, curled up with a book, but she had been spending so much time alone lately any kind of contact with her fellow Gryffindors was appreciated. Ginny sometimes sat with her and kept her company, but it wasn't the same as having her two best friends by her side.

She and Ron had spoken a grand total of two words to each other since that day when she had tried to patch things up with him on the Quidditch pitch. In the two weeks since the trip to Hogsmeade her relationship with Harry wasn't fairing much better. Professor Snape was quite pleased to see the 'dream team' finally split up, and frequently made comments about it much to the delight of the Slytherins.

If she was honest with herself the main reason she was still up was she was hoping Ron would finally want to talk. She didn't know what made her think this night would be different from any of the others, but she had to hope. Every so often she would casually look up from her book and glance in the direction of where he sat by the fire, playing a game of exploding snap with Seamus. He never looked back at her.

She knew she was largely to blame for the state they were in, but if Ron couldn't see that she wanted to be with him – and _only_ him – then he could go on and keep giving her the silent treatment. Of course she didn't really mean that. It felt horrible not being able to talk to him. They hadn't been stuck in a row this bad since third year when he had accused her cat of eating his pet Scabbers. This was at least ten times worse than that. At least then she had had Harry to talk to, but she didn't even have him now. She missed him too.

She looked up when she heard murmurs of surprise around her. Professor McGonagall had entered the common room, and though Hermione was sure their Head of House was going to reprimand them for being up when they had classes in the morning, she did nothing of the sort. When McGonagall caught sight of her, she ignored the rest of the students and walked over.

"Miss Granger, I need to speak with you outside for a moment," said McGonagall, her voice grave.

Hermione mentally scolded herself for not having yet prepared her prefect report for the week, which was due tomorrow. She had been neglecting her prefect duties somewhat since she and Ron had stopped talking. "I'll have my prefect report ready for you tomorrow morning," Hermione told her. "I have one final incident to write up about three Hufflepuff fourth years setting off water balloons on the fourth floor."

"Thank you, Miss Granger, but that's not why I'm here. I need to speak with you of something of a more urgent nature."

Hermione looked over and could see Ron listening in. He looked at her a moment, his expression revealed nothing, before turning back to his game. Wordlessly, Hermione followed her professor out into the corridor. McGonagall didn't speak right away, and Hermione was beginning to wonder what the urgent matter was. It looked like her professor was considering her next words very carefully.

"There was a Death Eater raid on several small wizarding villages tonight," McGonagall began slowly. "One of them was where your parents were being hidden."

Hermione felt her heart stop in her chest and the air in her lungs literally disappear. She managed to speak, but only just. "But they're all right?" A small voice in the back of her mind told her that of course they were. The Order had seen to it that her parents would be in a remote but safe part of the country. But the much louder and more rational part of her brain told her the news would be bad. McGonagall wouldn't have pulled her out of the common room if it wasn't. She could see how hard her professor was working to keep her face passive.

"Your father took a curse to the chest at close range and has some other minor injuries. He was still unconscious when he arrived at St. Mungo's."

She was able to breathe again. Her father was hurt but at least he was alive. "My mum?"

No longer was McGonagall able to keep the same neutral expression. Tears actually seemed to be forming behind her spectacles. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. When the Aurors arrived there was nothing they could do for her."

Hermione had leaned back against the wall for support before she even realized what she was doing. She didn't want to believe the Headmistress. Moody had promised her parents would be safe. How could the first news she had on them in nearly two months be this?

"Hermione?" Ron stood just outside the portrait hole, his voice had a quietness to it that showed he knew something serious had happened.

"Mr. Weasley, you should head back inside," McGonagall said to him in a gentle but stern voice.

Ron didn't move. Whatever news McGonagall had given Hermione it was bad. She looked to be in a state of numb shock. "Hermione?" He would leave, but only if she wanted him to. She didn't react to his presence until he was standing at her side. She didn't say anything, but she reached out and gripped his hand tightly. It felt cold and small in his big one.

When McGonagall seemed to accept his presence she spoke again. "I've got to speak with Albus about transportation arrangements. We'll be ready to leave within the hour. Will you be all right with Mr. Weasley until I come back for you?"

Hermione nodded distantly, and McGonagall gave her one last sympathetic glance before marching swiftly in the opposite direction, leaving the two teenagers alone.

"Hermione, what happened?" Ron asked, pulling her close to him, and she clung to him as if for dear life. Even wrapped in his arms she was shaking horribly.

"My parents. There was an attack," she said, unable to form a complete thought.

"Where are they now?" He asked gently.

"They took my dad to St. Mungo's."

"What about your mum?" He felt her grip of him slacken and when she looked up at him he saw the answer written in her eyes. "God, Hermione, I'm so sorry." He kissed her forehead and pulled her close to him again. He expected to hear her crying softly or sobbing loudly, but she was silent in his arms. It wretched his heart to see her like this. He would have done anything at that moment if he thought it would lessen her pain. But the harsh reality was that there was nothing he could do except hold her.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies was a lot busier then it should have been at two in the morning. The wizarding hospital normally ran on a skeleton crew of Healers and orderlies after midnight, but not on that night. Anyone and everyone who was available had been called in to help out. Though the hospital was of impressive size, due to the sheer volume of victims that had been brought in having sustained injuries of varying degrees from the surprise Death Eater attacks, beds were in short supply, not to mention the medical staff even with the extra hands that had come in. The halls were filled with the sounds of orderlies barking orders and victims moaning in agony.

The simple task of trying to find a Healer to give you an update on a patient's condition was next to impossible, and Ron was growing extremely frustrated with the evasive answers he would receive when he finally cornered one long enough to talk to him. No one would tell him anything of any real importance except that Hermione's father remained in the same state. Hermione wasn't even allowed into see him. Eventually, Lupin, who had accompanied them on the trip over, had decided they had been patient enough and left in search of the Healer who had been put in charge of Mr. Granger.

Ron, who felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin if they didn't hear something soon, could only imagine what Hermione must be going through. He had briefly considered pacing to relieve some of the tension in his body, but quickly dismissed the idea because he knew it wasn't going to help anything. He stayed with Hermione the whole time, trying anything he could think of to comfort her. He held her hand, stroked her hair, and would occasionally ask if she needed anything, but to him it didn't feel like he was doing enough. She had just lost her mum and the diagnosis of her dad remained unknown, and telling her it was going to be all right didn't seem like it was enough at all.

Hermione didn't say much at all, and if Ron didn't know better he'd say she was still in a state of semi shock. She hadn't broken down once since McGonagall had given her the news – and it was going on three hours now. Even though he knew Hermione to be a strong and capable woman, he was worried about her. It seemed like a part of her had just shut down. He figured if their roles were reversed he would have been the same, except he would be prone to violent outbursts and breaking things.

He looked up when he felt Hermione move out from under his arm. Lupin was approaching them and with him he had a tall balding man, who wore the lime green robes of a Healer. Hermione stood up and Ron got to his feet as well to stand with her.

"Hermione, this is Doctor Freeland," Lupin introduced. "He's looking after your father."

"How is he?" She asked immediately, by passing any further introductions.

"He's still unconscious, but we were able to get a Healer who specializes in magical curses to determine the extent of his injuries," Freeland said. "Compared to a lot of the injured we've treated here tonight, near as we can tell his condition is by far one of the best."

"Can I see him?"

"It's best if we leave the Healer undisturbed to do her work, and afterwards depending on what she finds we'll probably have several tests to run on your father. I know you don't want to hear this but the best thing you can do right now is get some rest and come back in the morning. We'll know more by then."

Hermione wanted to argue, but Lupin stepped in. "Thank you, Doctor. We'll let you get back to your other patients now."

Freeland gave her a sympathetic smile – one of many she had received that night and was already starting to hate – before turning to leave. But there was one more thing she had to know. "What about my mother? What happened to her?" She felt Ron go stiff beside her as she asked it.

Lupin regarded her carefully. "Hermione, maybe – "

"Professor, I _need_ to know," she cut in sharply.

Lupin looked like he still disagreed with her, but he respected her decision and didn't try to dissuade her further.

Doctor Freeland exchanged a quick look with Lupin, who nodded his consent, which only served to irritate her further. It was her mother who was dead and she had every right to know how it had happened. She wasn't a child incapable of handling the truth.

Freeland faced her again, saying, "by the time the Aurors arrived on the scene, she was already dead."

"What was it?" She said, her voice small. She felt Ron place a supportive hand on the small of her back.

"From what the Aurors described, it looks like she was put through the Cruciatus before they used the killing curse on her."

She had her answer now. Her mother had suffered horribly before they finally killed her. She pictured the scene in her mind. A gang of Death Eaters surrounding her mother, taking turns throwing the Cruciatus at her, laughing as she withered in pain, before one of them flicked their wand and put an end to it. It was enough to make her want to vomit.

Lupin thanked the doctor again and then he left, leaving the three of them alone. Hermione didn't want to leave, even with the knowledge that there was nothing she could do for her father. They weren't even going to allow her in to see him until the Healer was done.

She wasn't even aware she was walking away from her father's room, until they were almost halfway down the corridor. Catching the port key that would send them to a small room at the Three Broomsticks and then making the short trek back to Hogwarts, seemed such a blur she wasn't even sure it had really happened.

Lupin left them both at the portrait of the fat lady, telling Hermione they could go back to St. Mungo's after breakfast. She barely heard a word that left his mouth. If it wasn't for Ron she never would have made it back in to Gryffindor Tower, her brain barely functioning as it was, she couldn't even recall what the password was, even when they had been using it for two weeks and had remembered it clearly every time before then.

When they walked in the common room they found Harry nodding off in an armchair, while Ginny was curled up under a blanket on the couch. The two of them were awake instantly at the sound of the portrait hole opening.

Ginny made it to Hermione first and embraced her tightly. "How is he?" She asked, after she pulled away.

Hermione gave a small shrug. "He's stable but they don't know much more than that at the moment. There's a Healer in with him right now."

Harry hugged her next, and she was thrown by the fierceness of the embrace. He didn't say anything, but when he pulled away one look at him told her everything he couldn't express. He was the only person who could have some idea of what she was going through.

"I think I'm going to head up to bed," she told her friends. She didn't feel like she could sleep at all but she didn't want to be surrounded by anyone, except for maybe Ron.

It was Ron who silently followed her upstairs. When they reached the closed door of her dorm, she didn't try to stop him from coming inside. Her dorm mates were fast asleep and even if they had been awake, she wouldn't have cared about what they would say about Ron's presence. She slipped under the covers of her bed without even bothering to change. Ron sat down on the side of her bed and started playing with the fabric of her comforter.

"I'll go back with you tomorrow, if you want me to," he said.

She nodded her against the pillow. She wasn't sure she would be able to take the constant waiting and uncertainty if he wasn't there with her.

She felt the weight of the mattress shift then as Ron took up a position beside her on top of the covers of the bed. At first he didn't move. He didn't want her to think he was some kind of sick bastard who was using her mum's death as a way to get into bed with her. When she didn't protest him being there, he pressed a kiss to the back of her head and pulled her as close to him as he could from where he laid on top of the covers. He didn't know if he was helping or not, but he knew he couldn't just leave her there alone. And he didn't think she wanted him to leave either.

It was mid afternoon when Harry was finally able to join Ron and Hermione at the hospital. Ron, just as Hermione had been, was granted permission by McGonagall to miss his classes for the day and go with her back to St. Mungo's.

Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks had accompanied him from Hogwarts at Dumbledore's request. Though the last thing Harry wanted was a set of bodyguards, for once he didn't argue. If that was the only way he was going to be allowed into St. Mungo's then so be it.

At the reception area, Moody had asked where Mr. Granger's room was, and the nurse there had directed them up two floors to where the curse wing was located. Every patient on that floor had suffered an injury with regards to dark magic curses. Harry found Ron easily, sitting on a chair outside one of the rooms. They nodded to each other in greeting. Ron looked like he hadn't slept for more than a few hours the previous night.

"You came alone?" Ron asked surprised.

Harry shook his head. "Tonks and Moody came with me. They're down the hall talking to a couple of Aurors."

"I noticed them earlier when they walked by," Ron said. "Since when do Aurors get posted at St. Mungo's?"

"Maybe Fudge is trying to make up for his earlier mistakes, or things have gotten a lot worse than we know." Not for the first time Harry wished he would be allowed to know what was going on in the Order. He had every right to know what was going on, when he was as much a part of this war – maybe even more so than everyone else. "How long has she been in there?"

Ron shrugged and glanced at his watch. "An hour, maybe. Every so often the Healer comes around to check his vitals and then she comes out."

"Do they know what's wrong with him?"

"He's got a few broken ribs, some trauma to the head – and they're saying it looks like the Cruciatus was thrown at him for an extended period of time," he told Harry, looking sick at the thought.

"I read the Prophet this morning, but it's all just speculation about what happened. Fudge and all the other ministry officials refused to comment until they have more information."

"We already know they know a lot more than they're letting on. Everyone's been on alert about You-Know-Who since the start of the summer, and now that he's got his Death Eaters attacking villages, there won't be much Fudge or anyone else can do from stopping a full-scale panic. If we were members of the Order we would know exactly what happened," said Ron with some resentment.

Harry agreed completely with Ron's statement. "How's Hermione doing?"

"She's holding herself together real well," he answered, running a hand through his hair. "But it's like I don't know what to say to her. What are you supposed to say to someone whose mum was murdered by Death Eaters? Don't worry, it gets better?"

Harry thought long and hard about a response. Having experienced death himself, he should have at least had an idea of what to say, but he found he was as much at a loss as Ron was. "Maybe you're not supposed to say anything. It's enough for Hermione to know you're here when she needs you." He found it rather disconcerting that he was supposed to be there to support Hermione and all he could think about was Sirius and his own parents.

The door to Mr. Granger's room opened and in walked a young female Healer with Doctor Freeland. A minute later Hermione stepped out into the hall. She walked over to where the two boys were sitting and took a seat beside Ron.

"They said they want to run a few more tests, just to make sure everything's healing properly."

"Do you want to grab a quick bite to eat?" Ron asked her. He knew for a fact she hadn't eaten anything all day. "You probably won't be able to get back in to see your dad for another half hour at least," he added, when he saw her face take on what could be interpreted as a look of refusal.

In the end, Hermione agreed to go with them to the hospital dining area, if only to get a change of scenery from the lifeless white walls of her father's room and the waiting area. He still hadn't regained consciousness, and only through careful observation was she able to tell even the Healer was beginning to worry.

As they made the trip down to the dining area she couldn't help herself from thinking that it had taken a fatal attack on her family for the three of them to start talking again.


	13. Unfair Punishment

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Unfair Punishment**

Remus Lupin could tell early on that Harry's head – and more importantly his heart – just weren't on Occlumency. It was without a doubt Harry had come a long way since the beginning of the school year, but they weren't making any progress on that night, and Lupin had a feeling they weren't going to.

"I think we should call it a night," said Lupin, helping Harry up off his feet for the fourth time since they had started. He wasn't upset with Harry's lack of concentration, it was entirely understandable.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, dusting off his robes. "I _have_ been practicing since our last lesson."

"I know, Harry. But a lot has happened these past few days, so it's quite understandable why you're having difficulty focusing," said Lupin. "One of your best friends just lost her mother and up until a few days ago no one knew if her father would make a full recovery."

Harry leaned back against one of the desks pushed back against the wall for their lesson. "It's not that, at least not entirely," he said, his voice weary. "I mean, I should be thinking about how to help Hermione through this but most of the time I keep thinking about Sirius and my own mum and dad," he said, sounding ashamed.

"It's not uncommon to think about the loved ones you've lost, when someone you know has lost someone important to them. There's nothing wrong with that, Harry. Because of everything you've dealt with, you can probably understand what she's going through better than most people."

"Losing your godfather isn't the same as losing your mother."

"You lost a mother too, Harry."

"There's a big difference, Professor. I didn't even really know mine. Hermione's had a whole life with hers. I can't even begin to comprehend what she's feeling."

"But you have a good idea because you've been there yourself. Everyone handles death in a different way, but don't ever think that certain deaths are less important then others. Everyone is allowed to grieve for how ever long they need to."

Harry took his professor's words in stride, and although he knew Lupin was right, he still didn't feel any more qualified then the next person to talk about death. He may have been surrounded by it his whole life, but that didn't make him an expert on it.

"Before you go, Harry, there's something else I'd like to speak with you about," said Lupin, suddenly looking as worn and old as he did in the days before a full moon. "You and I haven't had a chance to talk about Sirius, and that's largely my fault. I didn't want to talk about it even when I knew you needed to. I wasn't ready to accept that I was the only one left of my childhood friends. I know I'm not alone but it still feels like that sometimes. The point is, Harry, I should have been there for you in the summer, but I wasn't and I'm sorry for that. I'm here now, and when you feel you're ready to talk, I'm here to listen."

Harry didn't know what to say, but then he didn't think Lupin was expecting an answer from him – at least not yet. It sounded like Lupin was ready to talk about Sirius, but he wasn't. He just couldn't deal with that yet, even when he knew there was only so long he could hide from his godfather's death before it finally caught up with him.

With the Christmas holidays starting the day after tomorrow, Hermione found herself buried with more work than ever before. A lot of that could be attributed to the special project she had recently undertaken. That was the reason why she was skipping meals in order to spend as much time in the library as possible doing research. She had not told Harry or Ron what she was up to because they would undoubtedly try to talk her out of it. It was obvious they were already concerned for her, so she probably wasn't helping matters by spending almost every waking moment – and occasionally the hours when she should have been sleeping – working. But she knew that if she kept at it a solution or some sort of breakthrough was bound to present itself. There was too much riding on this for her not to succeed.

At the sound of a chair scraping on the floor, Hermione hurriedly closed one of the books she had been looking through and opened another. It was rather noticeable to the person sitting across from her what she had just done.

"So you're skipping meals now to come here – and do what, homework?" Ron said, raising a curious eyebrow.

"I wasn't hungry so I decided to finish my Transfiguration essay."

Ron gave her a look of utter disbelief. "But it's not due 'til after we come back."

"I wanted Professor McGonagall to look it over before we leave. Then I can fix it up over the holidays."

"What are you working on now?" He asked, trying to sneak a peek at the book she had closed before he had sat down, but the print on the binding was too small for him to read.

"Ancient Runes," she lied.

"That doesn't look like Ancient Runes to me," he said.

"And how would you know? It's not like you have the class," she snapped, closing the book in front of her. She picked up a quill and parchment and started writing.

Ron had to take a deep breath to keep himself from snapping back. She seemed to be working extra hard lately to push his buttons, as if she were purposely trying to provoke him into a fight. For the most part he had been able to keep his temper in check, sometimes only just barely. He had to keep reminding himself that she needed to be angry with someone and it was easiest to pick a fight with him. He had refrained from commenting on her obsession with schoolwork – which was saying something because Hermione always did so much work, but now she seemed to be doing everything she could to make more for herself. He thought it would disappear after her dad had woken up a week earlier, with no lasting injuries, but it only seemed to have intensified it. He could no longer go on saying nothing about it anymore and pretending everything was fine – even if it was going to make her angry with him. She was going to make herself sick if she didn't slow down. "Hermione, you need to stop."

"I'm almost finished," she responded without looking up.

"Not just with this – but with everything. You're wearing yourself out."

"I feel fine."

Fed up, he grabbed the paper she had been writing on and snatched it out from under her quill. "Would you stop writing for two seconds and talk to me?"

"What do you want, Ron?" She said irritably. He had been great through everything, and she doubted she would have made it through the last two weeks without him, but now he was really starting to get on her nerves.

There was no point in backing down now. "You're burnt out, can't you see that? You keep this up and you're going to be sharing a room with your dad at St. Mungo's." That probably hadn't been the best thing to say since it only seemed to irritate her further.

"I know what this is about," she said, fuming more by the second. "You just can't stand that I haven't fallen apart yet and really needed you."

"Dammit, Hermione, that's not it."

"I'm sorry if I bruised your fragile male ego, but if you're really that desperate for someone to cry on your shoulder maybe you should start looking elsewhere." She grabbed the parchment he had stolen from her and collected the two books she had been using under her arm. Without so much as another look at Ron, she stomped angrily out of the library.

"Can't it just wait until we get back?" Ron complained, while he walked with Harry on their way to Moody's class.

"We haven't had a practice all week because everyone was too busy with midterms. If Katie waits to have one until after the holidays we'll be seriously out of practice," Harry reasoned.

"Harry, tomorrow is the last day of classes."

"All the more reason to have one, since any homework given out won't be due for two weeks."

Ron scowled visibly but gave up any further attempts at protesting. Harry had been the one to convince Katie to hold one more practice before the end of term – not that Katie needed all that much convincing to begin with. Any other time he would love to practice, but the workload had been so intense the last month of school he was looking forward to going home and doing nothing. But in similar fashion to Katie, Harry had become just unrelenting about team conditioning and practices. Somewhere along the lines he wondered when Harry had become more obsessed with Quidditch then him. He was becoming the same as Hermione was with her schoolwork. Together, they were going to drive him over the edge if they kept this up. Maybe Harry would mellow out slightly over the break, since he was going to have his first real family Christmas. He would be spending it at Grimmauld Place with Ron's family, Hermione, Lupin, and the other members of The Order that came and went daily.

They had come out of Transfiguration, and while he and Harry argued over the idea of practice, Hermione walked right passed them. It was easy to tell she was still angry with him, but it wasn't like he had set out to upset her on purpose – unlike so many times in the past. It didn't seem like he could say anything these days without her biting his head off. She had been slightly friendlier towards Harry, but even he was backing off to give her some space. Perhaps he should think about doing the same.

Harry had suddenly grown quiet and it didn't take long for Ron to figure out why. They were walking by a classroom where seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were filing out of. One of the Ravenclaws noticed Harry and looked his way.

"Forget about her, mate," Ron said to him. "You're better off without her."

Harry made no response. Though he agreed with him, he would rather not talk about Cho at all. He much rather preferred pretending she didn't exist. It was only fair since she was doing the same to him since she had gone running to Michael, making it seem like he had coerced her into a relationship. If she had told Michael the truth about what they had done together, there wasn't a chance they would still be a couple.

His reaction was one of beyond surprise when he saw her break away from her friends and head towards them.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered under his breath. "What's she coming over here for?"

She was no more than a foot away when a loud and easily recognizable voice could be heard saying, "I honestly don't know how she even has the nerve to approach him."

Harry and Ron's jaws dropped in astonishment as Hermione came to stand beside them, hands firmly planted on her hips as she glared at Cho.

Cho matched her icy glare. "Whatever I have to say to Harry really isn't any of your business, so why don't you back off?"

"I know for a fact he has nothing to say to you. So I guess you'll just have to make something up when you go running back to Michael, just like last time. Or did you actually tell him the truth about you and Harry?"

"You're one to talk, Hermione. I'm not the one supposedly dating one of my best friends and then caught snogging the other one in Hogsmeade."

"Er, shouldn't we do something?" Harry muttered out of the side of his mouth to Ron.

Ron forcefully shook his head. He didn't bother saying he thought Hermione needed something like this. She had been so busy trying to repress all emotions – except when it came to irritating him – that she needed to let out some of the grief and frustration she was feeling before it consumed her.

Hermione looked un-phased by the Ravenclaw's last remark. "I'm not the slag here," she said coolly.

Harry and Ron gaped openly at her. Never did they think they would hear the word 'slag' come out of Hermione Granger's mouth, let alone be directed at another girl. Cho hadn't taken kindly to the remark either. She lunged at Hermione, who was caught unprepared for the attack.

Limbs and hair flew wildly until the girls were pried apart by an invisible force.

"Granger! Chang! My office _now_!" A sour voice barked. Snape was seething and still had his wand drawn. "The rest of you to your classes. Any one I catch lingering will have nightly detentions with me all of next term!"

The crowd thinned out remarkably fast. No one was willing to see if Snape would make good on his threat. That is, everyone except Harry and Ron. The Potions Master turned his steeliest gaze on them.

"Unless you both are deaf or just obnoxiously stupid, the latter being more likely, I suggest you get to class. Now."

Ron stepped forward, ignoring Hermione who was frantically shaking her head at him. "Sir, I saw everything. As a prefect, it's my duty to make sure what happened is reported."

Snape smiled coldly at Ron. "Not this time, Weasley. There are no witnesses to this _incident_ aside from myself, since you will undoubtedly say whatever it takes to keep Miss Granger out of trouble. As for Potter, well, no one can ever be sure that what comes out of his mouth hasn't been influenced by the Dark Lord somehow."

Ron was fuming. "That's a load of shit – "

"One more word out of you Mr. Weasley and I will be well within my rights to give you a term's worth of detentions. Perhaps then Professor McGonagall will see she should have taken your badge away long before now.

Right now Ron could care less about losing his Prefect status. He wasn't going to let that git manipulate things to make it look like this was Hermione's fault. He opened his mouth but Hermione beat him to it.

"Ron, don't say anything!" Her eyes were fierce, but her look was pleading. She had gotten herself into this mess, and she wasn't about to let Ron get dragged down with her.

"For once, I suggest you follow Granger's advice," Snape leered. He hooked a finger at Cho and then Hermione before walking away. Both girls had no choice but to follow. Hermione was careful not to look back at Ron and Harry as she did. There was no point in all three of them getting in trouble because that would have been giving Snape exactly what he wanted. No, she would face whatever punishment he had planned for her alone.

Hermione had only been in Snape's office once before. In second year, she had needed some rather potent ingredients to brew the poly juice potion – ingredients that could only be found inside the Potion Master's private cupboard. While a diversion had been going off in class, she had snuck down there and taken exactly what they would need. To this day, Snape still suspected it was Harry who had stole from his private supply.

Snape's office had not changed one bit in four years. There were still the jars full of foul looking creatures floating on shelves behind his desk, and the room had a damp, almost mildew smell to it from being down in the dungeons.

He slammed the heavy wooden door shut, causing his dozens of specimens to shake unnaturally up and down. He walked behind his desk and sat down. The spiteful look he gave her was similar to the one he would give her whenever she participated in class. She matched his glare. She was not going to be intimidated by him.

She did not even think Snape was capable of being this unfair, but he had managed to sink to an all-new low. He had escorted Cho to her next class, telling her she had detention with him the following night. Hermione thought he was going to do the same for her, but he began leading her down to the dungeons. Her punishment was going to be far worse.

"I have never seen such an outrageous display of behaviour by a prefect in this school. What do you have to say for yourself, Granger?"

Hermione bit her tongue. There was really no point in telling him Cho had attacked her first because he wouldn't believe her anyways.

"I see you get your silence from Potter. But unlike hero boy," he said, leaning over his desk, "you do not have free reign over this school to do whatever you want and know that the Headmaster or someone else will keep you out of any real trouble."

"With all due respect, sir, it should be Professor McGonagall who decides my punishment. She is my head of house and in charge of the prefects after all."

"Nice try, Granger, but since I am the only _reliable_ witness to the incident, I believe it is my duty to hand out the appropriate punishment," he leered.

Her perfect school record would already be ruined, she knew that much. She also knew she might as well make the most of it. "Sir, I would hardly call yourself a reliable witness. You are publicly known for being biased towards your own house and frequently go out of your way to ensure Gryffindor, and especially Harry, are humiliated at every opportunity. I would have to say Mrs. Norris would be a much more reliable source then you, seeing as she has equal prejudice towards every student in this school." She watched as Snape's eyes seemed to bulge with rage and his entire body became as rigid as ice.

Snape stood up and walked around to where Hermione stood, towering over her. "On top of being an insufferable know-it-all, you think it funny to insult and disrespect a teacher. That alone, is worth at least a month of detentions clearing out the storage cupboards in all my classrooms. As for attacking Miss Chang in the hallway – "

"I did _not_ attack her!" She shouted.

"Do not speak unless I give you permission to do so!" He shouted back at her.

Hermione willed herself to calm down, before she lost her head completely. Since when had she turned in to Ron?

"As for attacking Miss Chang," he repeated, "you have set a horrible example for the students of this school and created an unbecoming image of the other prefects. While I could give you another month's worth of detentions, I do not think that would be sufficient for someone of your mentality. I think a much more effective way for you to learn from this would be for you to give up your prefect status."

He was watching her carefully, looking for signs of out cry and disbelief and it worked. No teacher was supposed to have the right to take away a prefect badge except the Head of House, no matter what the circumstances. She knew he was waiting for her to protest exactly that. She wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

She ripped the Prefect badge from her robes and slammed it down on his desk. She threw a final loathing look before turning on her heel and storming out of there.

Despite the protests and complaints of much of the Gryffindor team, Katie held the last Gryffindor practice of the semester on the night before they were all scheduled to go home for the holidays. Once they were on the pitch going through drills and scrimmages, not one person seemed to mind anymore, even with the freezing temperature and the snow.

To everyone's amazement Katie actually ended things a little over an hour in. For Harry and Ron, the end could not have come soon enough. Harry, who had been looking forward to one last practice, had spent the entirety of it, wishing it would end. Hermione had not made an appearance during their last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and she had been absent from dinner. They had seen Cho at the Ravenclaw table and had started to worry. But with Katie ordering them all to the pitch straight from dinner, they didn't get a chance to look for her.

Now, he and Ron trudged back to the castle ahead of every one else, until of all people, Dean Thomas fell into step beside him.

"I guess you could say I've been a little unfair to you," Dean said when they were almost to the castle's main door. He missed the nasty look Ron shot his way.

Harry gave a small shrug but didn't say anything. He had gotten so used to not speaking to Dean that he really didn't know what he was supposed to say to him.

"I should probably thank you for hitting me," he went on. "Mind you, I was as mad as hell at you for weeks."

"I didn't mean to hit you," said Harry. "I can't even remember why I lost my temper."

"It probably all happened for the best. I wasn't really sorry for what I had done to Ginny because I didn't think it was wrong. I know better now, and Ginny and I are going to give it another go."

"Really?" Harry said, doing a good job at masking his surprise. He saw Ron's back go rigid in front of him, but he said nothing.

Dean nodded. "We talked a lot and decided that maybe not seeing each other at all over the summer months was part of the problem, so we've made plans to see each other during the holidays."

"That's great, Dean."

Dean was grinning, and when he saw Ginny about to walk passed them, he said to Harry. "I'll talk to you later."

Without waiting for a reply from Harry, he went over to Ginny and started talking to her. Ginny gave him a quick glance before turning her attention to Dean.

"So the bloke's finally talking to you?" Ron said, beside him.

"Looks that way," said Harry in return.

Once they were inside and walking up the marble staircase, Ron spoke in an outraged voice. "I can't believe she's going out with him again!"

Harry said nothing, he just listened to Ron vent about Dean and Ginny for about another five minutes until they reached the fat lady.

"Queen's knight," Ron grumbled and the portrait obediently moved aside.

He scanned the common room for Hermione, but she wasn't there. He did spot Lavender and Pavarti sitting at the table closest to the fireplace. If anyone knew where Hermione might be it was those two. They made it their business to know everyone else's business.

He approached them, saying, "have you seen Hermione?"

"She left awhile ago, and Merlin, she was in a right mood," Lavender told them.

"Is it true she took on Cho Chang?" Pavarti asked. "Do you think she'd let us do an interview with her?"

Ron was already walking away, heading back to the portrait hole. He wasn't going to waste more time answering their questions. He needed to find Hermione.

"Where do you think she is?" Harry asked when they were both out in the hall.

"I have a pretty good idea where she would go," he answered.

The night before the final day of classes for the term, there were barely enough people in the library to fill up a single table. It was easy enough for Ron to pick out Hermione, who was sitting alone at one of the farthest tables.

He and Harry each pulled up a chair beside her. "You really need to find a new place to hide," he said to her.

"I'm not hiding," she informed him. "I just couldn't get any peace in the common room and this seemed the most logical place for me to go."

"What happened with Snape?" Harry asked her first.

"Not much," she said, dropping her gaze back down to her book.

"That's bullocks," said Ron. "Tell us what happened."

Trying to look as though she was immersed in her book, she mumbled, "he took my prefect badge."

"He what?!" Ron roared, noticing for the first time the empty spot on her robe where her prefect badge should have been. That outburst earned him a threatening look from Madame Pince, which he didn't really understand since there wasn't really anyone for him to disturb. "He can't do that," he raged on, but lowering his voice this time. "Only McGonagall can. I've done loads worse and I haven't lost my badge yet. Your record is spotless. That slimy git had–"

"Ron, it's done. There's nothing I can do," she said calmly.

Ron's eyes widened in disbelief. "I can't believe you just said that. Being a prefect means everything to you. You have to talk to McGonagall. She's going to be as mad as hell at Snape."

"I did sort of start things with Cho," she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. "Then I started fighting with her. What kind of example was I setting for the rest of the school?"

"Who cares?" Ron said in exasperation. "She started the fight. You were only defending yourself."

"Then I sort of lost my temper in Snape's office," she said sheepishly. She launched into an explanation of how she had said Mrs. Norris would be a more reliable witness then her potions professor.

Ron wasn't sure whether or not he should laugh. He knew he couldn't look at Harry because for sure the two of them would burst out laughing. It was almost inconceivable that she had insulted Snape right to his face. When she glanced at him, looking mortified at what she had done, he could no longer keep the grin off his face.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just that – wow… I can't believe you said that. But he deserved it." He took it as a good sign that she didn't appear angry with his statement.

"He only did that because of me," said Harry, his voice full of regret. "He never would have taken your badge otherwise. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Harry, it's not your fault," she said instantly. "You know how he goes out of his way to punish Gryffindor. This time wasn't any different."

"I know exactly how Snape is," said Harry, darkly. "And if he thinks he can – "

"_No_," she said with such force that Ron could swear it was his mother talking. "You are not going to do anything that will give Snape an opportunity to chuck you out of his class for good and stop you from becoming an Auror. You're not going to do anything either, Ron," she said, turning her gaze on him. He was frowning visibly now. "I'm going to serve my detentions – "

"You got detention out of this too? I could kill that bastard – "

" – and not give him one ounce of satisfaction by complaining or protesting about the unfairness of it," she plunged on, cutting Ron off.

"You should still talk to McGonagall," Harry said to her.

She shook her head. "That's what he wants me to do. And the last thing I want is for Professor McGonagall to show any favourtism towards me because that will just prove Snape is right about Gryffindors getting special treatment."

"Blimey, Hermione," said Ron in a weary voice, but knew there was no way he could talk her out of it. She had a stubborn streak in her that rivaled his own.

"I'll be fine," she assured them both. Underneath the table, She put Ron's hand on her leg and held it in her own. "He's already taken away my badge, so there's not really a lot more he can do," she said, trying to look on the bright side.

Ron looked at Harry and could read his friend's expression clearly. From experience, both he and Harry knew exactly what detentions with Snape could be like, and contrary to Hermione's belief there was still a lot he could do to make her life as miserable as possible.


	14. Sacrificial Magic

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Sacrificial Magic

Heavy snow had begun to fall by the time the train full of Hogwarts students pulled in to platform nine and three quarters. Mrs. Weasley was crowded with the other parents on the platform, waiting for Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione to disembark. The four of them soon discovered that Mrs. Weasley was not alone. Tonks, Moody, Lupin, and Ron's brother Bill were standing off to the side a short distance away.

Mrs. Weasley embraced Hermione first, holding her close as if she were her own child. "I'm so sorry about your mother, dear."

Hermione pulled out of the hug, giving the older woman a small smile. Hermione, who had been in complete control of her emotions for weeks, felt some of that control slipping away at Molly's words. She was such a wonderful person _and_ mother. Ron and Ginny were lucky to have such a person looking out for them. She moved aside so Molly could hug each of her children, and then of course, Harry.

Shortly after, Mrs. Weasley guided them towards Moody and the others, who lead them towards the two cars parked out in front of the station. Ron, Hermione, and Harry climbed into one car with Moody and Tonks, while Ginny and her mother shared the other one with Lupin and Bill.

The car ride to Grimmauld Place was a short, but a silent one, much like the train ride from Hogwarts had been, Ron noted. Hermione had read a bit, while he and Harry had entertained themselves with Quidditch talk and taking turns skimming through the latest issue of _Quidditch_ _Weekly_, which had just arrived the other day.

The snow was still falling steadily when they arrived at Grimmauld Place, but it wasn't quite as heavy now. Moody magicked all their luggage and brought it inside after them.

Mrs. Weasley barely had her coat off before she began talking about preparing lunch. Twenty minutes later they were all seated in the dining room, with a table full of large sandwiches and side dishes.

Mrs. Weasley tried to encourage Hermione to eat more, even though she had a decent sized sandwich and some coleslaw on her plate. She had the feeling that Hermione hadn't been eating that much lately. "Hermione, dear, have another sandwich," she said.

"Mum," Ron said warningly, stepping in on Hermione's behalf. He hoped she would get the message and back off. Hermione was not going to respond well to being treated like a child.

"It's all right, Ron," she assured him, knowing his mother meant well. "Maybe I'll have another one after," she told her.

Ron was shocked to see his mother accept that answer and not push the matter further, but he should have figured that by Hermione's tone she was not going to allow herself to be bullied into doing anything she didn't want to. He wondered what his mother was going to say when she found out about the two of them. He was beginning to wonder if they should even say anything at all because she was bound to put into effect some house rules for the two of them. As long as Harry and Ginny kept their mouths shut, and he had no doubt that Harry would, everything would be fine. The only other person to worry about was Lupin. He had seen the way they had been at the hospital, but Lupin didn't seem like the kind of person who would go telling their mother about their relationship.

Looking over at Harry, he seemed to be handling the idea of him and Hermione together a lot better now. Then again, sometimes with Harry you never really knew what was going on in that head of his. Ron figured the next couple of weeks would really prove if Harry was all right with them being together. Ron hoped he was because he was counting on an argument-free holiday.

On her first night back at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Hermione found herself going through fitful bursts of sleep until she couldn't take the constant tossing and turning anymore and got up. She slipped on her dressing gown and as quietly as she could, pulled out a book she had buried at the bottom of her trunk. Then she silently crept downstairs, hoping that no one else in the house would hear her up at such a late hour.

She didn't want to risk turning on any lights until she was safely inside the den. Fortunately for her she found her way easily through the dark and did not bump into anything, which would have likely sent the portrait of Mrs. Black into a screaming frenzy and woken the entire house. She entered the small den, lighting one of the oil lamps – and nearly let out a scream when she saw she was not the only one in the room.

"Sorry," Harry apologized sheepishly, from where he sat in one of the room's two armchairs. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's all right," Hermione said, her heartbeat yet to return to normal. "I just wasn't expecting anyone else to be up."

"I was suffering from insomnia, but that's nothing new," he returned with a small smile. "It seems to get worse when I'm here," he admitted.

She knew the likely cause of it was Sirius, but she also knew she couldn't say that to him. Until he broached the subject of his godfather's death first, it would do no good to bring it up. He would shut her out, just like he had Ron every time either one of them mentioned Sirius Black's name.

"Mind if I ask what's keeping you awake?" He said to her.

"I just have a lot on my mind, is all."

"You could borrow the book Lupin gave me on meditation techniques. It works most of the time."

"But you're still up," she was quick to point out.

"I said most of the time, but I'm no expert at it. Some nights no matter what I do I can't get it to work."

She figured she should probably take him up on his offer. At the very least It wouldn't hurt to try. Her sleep patterns had become very erratic as of late.

"What's that book in your hands?"

She noticed then she had been holding it right out in front of her, allowing Harry to get a good look at it. She mentally cursed herself for it. She should have been more careful then that.

"I thought maybe some reading would help me get to sleep," she said, placing it on a table out of Harry's direct line of sight.

But her efforts to hide it were unsuccessful because the damage had already been down. "That doesn't look like the kind of book you would fall asleep to. It looks a lot like something you would get out of the restricted section at the library."

"Well, it's not, Harry."

"Then what is it?" He pressed, more than a little suspicious now. "I don't think I've seen you reading that one before." He got out of the chair and tried to see passed her to what was in her hands.

"You've never cared about what I read before," she said, trying to block it from view.

"You've never tried to hide what you were reading before," he countered. He got tired of trying to peak at over her shoulder and just grabbed it instead. His Quidditch reflexes allowed him to have it his hands before she could even try and stop him. He read the title off the cover – _Sacrificial Spells: Protecting Those You Love_. He gave her a sharp look. "What are you doing with this?" He hissed.

"It's not what you think," she said, trying to grab it back from him but he moved her out of her grasp.

"This book is in the restricted section for a reason, Hermione. How did you get this out of there without Madame Pince noticing?"

"Like you, me, and Ron have never used books from the Restricted Section before," she said with a note of irritation.

"This is completely different. You shouldn't be messing around with this stuff."

"Harry, I think I can replicate a protection spell smilar to the one your mother put on you."

The mention of his mother seemed to take away some of his anger. "Hermione, it doesn't work anymore. Voldemort performed that spell in fourth year so he would be able to touch me and he can."

"But the spell is still in you, I'm sure of it. There is no magic more powerful than that of someone who sacrificed themself – who loved someone else so much – they were willing to die for them. That kind of magic doesn't just fade away. It leaves a permanent imprint on you."

"My mum may have died to save me, but I'm not going to let anyone else do the same," he said, his voice shaking. "Nobody is deserving of that kind of protection."

"Nobody has to die, Harry."

"That's the way sacrificial spells work – "

"It's more complicated than that," she cut him off. "In order for any sort of sacrificial magic to work the intent has to be pure. The spell I want to do is almost the opposite of what your mother did. Instead of us giving up our lives to save someone, we would use the magic to keep someone who's been severely injured alive, or even bring back someone who's only been dead a short time. I'd say no longer than fifteen minutes. After that you move into zombie territory," she said with a shudder. "It's the same general idea as the sacficial spell your mother performed on you. You have to show you are willing to give up your live to save another, but that doesn't mean you have to actually sacrifice your life," she added quickly when he looked ready to interrupt. "As long as the intention is there the magic will work. I don't think it could ever be as strong as the one your mother put on you because the bond between a mother and her child is unbreakable. Anyways, this is only a temporary solution. I'm still researching spells for you to defend yourself against Voldemort with."

"So what are you saying?" He was already regretting asking the question. He should not have been encouraging her about this.

"With the necessary precautions taken, I think I can create a protection barrier to encompass you, me, and Ron. Since there's never been a record of a protection spell encompassing three people, that would weaken the magic somewhat and that means at least one of us would need to be close to the injured person to keep them alive."

His brain was swimming with all this information she was throwing at him. "What do you mean 'keep them alive'?"

"As I mentioned before, not all sacrificial spells involve a person having to actually give their life. You just need to be willing to give up a part of yourself to save that person."

"What part?" He asked darkly. "Hermione?" He pressed when she didn't answer.

"Your soul," she finally answered. "It's what makes you who you are and many Healers have changed their thinking to believe the soul is the most powerful part of the human body. By giving up a part of who you are – the strongest part – is what strengthens the other person enough to save their live."

By the amount of knowledge she had acquired on the subject she had to have been researching it for some time – far too much time in Harry's opinion. "You can't play around with this kind of magic, or weren't you paying attention in Binns classes? There's reasons why people don't try sacrificial spells whenever they're worried something bad is going to happen. The kind of power it involves is beyond most wizard's comprehension. If it was that easy Dumbledore would have cast a spell around me after the one my mum did no longer worked."

"Harry, I'm talking about saving someone's life when there's nothing modern magic could do for them," she persisted, desperate to make him understand. "With the right controls in place – "

"One of the first things we were ever taught was magic is not to be used to alter the natural course of life. Horrific things have happened to those who tried."

She was growing more furious with him by the second. "How can you say that? No one who has suffered at the hands of a Death Eater deserved to die. Are you saying Sirius deserved to die? That your parents did?"

He had known from the start what this had been about, but he didn't think it possible for Hermione's grief to blind her into this kind of bad judgment. "Hermione, please, leave this alone," Harry pleaded with her. "There's too much that could go wrong with this. This kind of magic is beyond even you."

"I'm well aware of my own capabilities, Harry," she said sharply.

"You wouldn't even be looking into this if it wasn't for what happened to your mother." He knew he had gone too far now with that comment, but he didn't see any other way to get through to her. He had to make her see how dangerous this was. "You should talk to someone."

She let out a short laugh. "That's rich coming from you, Harry. You've made a career out of avoiding dealing with things. You're angry with everyone and you blame yourself for Sirius' death. You stopped the DA lessons not because you don't think we need them anymore, but because you don't care anymore. You're sick of the fighting and the dying and just want it to be over. In case you haven't noticed, you're not the only one who's fighting this war. Everyone else has just as much to lose, but you're too absorbed in your own pain and self-pity to notice that." This time when she went to grab for the book in his hands, he didn't resist. She knew in the morning she was going to regret saying those things to him, but at the moment she was too worked up to care how much she had hurt him.

Hermione had been right about the guilt factor. It was in full effect when she awoke the next morning. But because she was leaving with Ron's dad first thing so she could visit her own father, Harry was still sleeping when she left. She would have to try and apologize to him later. Maybe then he would be more willing to listen to reason when it came to using sacrificial magic. Even more so, she was going to need Harry on her side if she wanted to have any chance of convincing Ron of what she wanted to do.

She and Mr. Weasley caught a port key a few streets over that took them all the way to the abandoned department store Purge & Dowse Ltd. Mr. Weasley spoke to one of the chipped dummies in the window, telling it the name of the patient they were there to visit. Once the dummy nodded its approval and beckoned them forward, Hermione and Arthur Weasley stepped through the window of class, emerging in the hospital reception area.

They walked up to the reception desk, where the bored looking witch sat there, listening to a wizard talk her ear off about how his wand had backfired and was now covered from head to toe in downy fur. As soon as he paused for breath she told him to walk around to the end of the corridor to where the wand accident ward was.

Once the wizard was out of the way, Hermione moved forward. "I'm here to see Jack Granger."

The witch ran her finger down the long parchment list in front of her. She looked up and handed Hermione a small piece of parchment. "Sign here."

Hermione checked off that she was here as a visitor, and that her destination was the fourth floor curse wing before signing her name and handing the paper back to receptionist.

It was a new patient visiting procedure created by the ministry, which was being extremely cautious since the attacks on the smaller wizarding communities nearly two weeks ago. Every one who entered St. Mungo's was required by magical law to sign in and state their purpose there. There were also two patrolling Aurors on every floor. Hermione had read in the _Prophet_ that anti-deception charms had been placed at the entrance to refuse entry to anyone who was hiding their true appearance. She bet Tonks was thrilled about that.

Ron's dad left her after she had signed in, telling her Lupin was going to come by around noon to take her back to Grimmauld Place. She then climbed the stairway that would take her to the fourth floor.

She walked in to her father's room, expecting to find him lying in bed still recovering, but the bed was made when she walked in. He was by the window, wrapped in a hospital robe, looking outside. The only other occupant in the room had the curtains closed around their bed. Her father gave her a warm smile when he saw her.

"I almost didn't recognize you not lying in bed," she said coming around and giving him a quick hug. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, sweetheart," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I spoke with the doctor yesterday and he said another week or so and I should finally be able to get out of here."

"That's great news, dad."

And it was, except it was dampened somewhat by the fact that he didn't exactly have a home to go to at the moment. The Order of the Phoenix was currently looking into possible locations. As of yet they had not found a location they – and Hermione – were satisfied with.

"There's something we need to talk about," he said, growing serious. "I've avoided saying anything the last few times you were here, but now that I have a more accurate time frame of when I'm getting out of here, now is probably as good a time as any."

"What's going on?"

"Why don't we sit down?" He said, pointing to the hospital bed.

Hermione sat down beside her father, feeling more anxious then ever. Whatever he wanted to talk to her about it wasn't going to be good if he thought she needed to be sitting down for it.

"I know we haven't talked much about where I'm going to live now," he began.

"Dad, you don't have to worry about that. There's people looking after that."

"The same people who looked after it last time?" He said harshly.

"They thought you would be safe there. They didn't know Voldemort would actually attack an all wizarding community this early on. " she said after a moment, and she wasn't even sure why she was defending the Order now that her trust in them had cost her her mother.

"It doesn't matter," he said, rubbing his face wearily, as Hermione had come to notice was normal whenever she mentioned anything to do with the wizarding world. "I've already made up my mind."

"About what?"

He held her gaze for a moment before saying. "I'm leaving England – and so are you."

She sat there staring at him for a full minute, not moving or saying anything, positive that she had heard him wrong. He couldn't be serious. Her life was here. Everyone she cared about was here. Hogwarts was here – _Ron_ was here.

"It's not safe for you here. Whatever this thing is that's happening in the magic world I don't want you caught up in it."

"Dad, it's too late for that. I'm already involved in what's happening. I can't just pack up and leave everyone behind to deal with this."

"That's exactly why you need to get as far away from here as possible. I don't want to see what happened to your mother happen to you."

"I know how to take care of myself," she argued, blinking back tears – but they were tears of anger. "I can't abandon Ron or Harry. They need me."

"Those boys are going to get you killed," he said sharply. "Last year when your mother and I were considering pulling you out of that school, we talked with Dumbledore and learned quite a bit about what the three of you have gotten yourselves into over the years. But your mother and I were willing to let it go because Dumbledore promised that he would be able to protect you and because you were at the top of your class. I was foolish enough to believe that he would be able to protect you all the time, but I know better now. Hermione, we're leaving here. You may be angry at me for awhile but you'll thank me when you're older and _alive_."

Hermione couldn't sit still any longer. She stood in front of him, desperate to make him understand. "I don't belong in your world anymore, dad, don't you see that? You have no idea what I've learned – what I'm capable of. The wizarding world is my home now."

"Hermione, this isn't up for discussion. I've made up my mind," he said sternly. "You can spend the holidays with the Weasley's and go back to that school of yours until I get our living arrangements in order, but that's it."

If Hermione had thought it would have made even a bit of difference, she would have argued further. Unless she found a way to change her dad's mind, she was going to be forced to leave behind the life she had made for herself over the last six years, and go back to a world she no longer had any interest in being a part of.


	15. Hermione's Plan

Sorry for keeping you guys waiting for so long. Yes, it was rather evil of me to just stop like that after saying Hermione is leaving…

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Hermione's Plan

Three days had gone by and Hermione had still not breathed a word to anyone that her father was not only planning on pulling her out of Hogwarts but out of the country as well. She had considered keeping the news to herself but not only was it not fair to Ron, but he was bound to notice her mood change. He had gotten quite good at reading her and if he asked her what was going on she knew she wouldn't be able to lie to him. In a way she was desperate for him to know, so she wouldn't have to go through it alone, but the selfish part of her wanted to keep it from him. Things were going so unbelievably well right now she didn't want to risk messing it up. For a change in recent weeks, the logical part of her brain won out and she made the decision to tell him that night – but not until later when it was just the two of them alone together. She wanted him to be the first to know before she told anyone else.

At the moment, she and Ron were locked in an intense chess match against Harry. Four hours earlier, it had just been Ron and Harry playing, and she had been sitting by Ron's side curled up with a book, not really paying attention until it became obvious that Harry had the upper hand for a change. After winning two straight games (which rarely ever happened against Ron), Harry was becoming rather cocky and Ron decided to make things a bit more interesting. He challenged Harry to take on her and himself, which Harry gladly accepted. He knew what a horrible chess player she was and that was why she normally refused to play.

She let Ron control most of the game, not wanting to impede their chances of winning. By the looks of the chessboard, Ron had Harry's pieces exactly where he wanted them and it was only a matter of time before Harry was forced to make a move he didn't want to make.

Harry placed his elbows on either side of the board and held his face in his hands. "I knew I never should have let you two team up against me," he moaned, though there was no hint of resentment in his voice.

"You're just a sore loser, Harry," she teased.

Ron chuckled beside her and Harry shot them both feigned dirty looks.

Hermione was glad to be able to joke around freely with Harry again. For a while there she thought he was going to stay angry with her about what she was trying to do – and because of what she had said to him. He was still strongly against her doing anything, but he had made it clear that if she was going to try anything she had better tell him before she did it. And of course, he wanted her to tell Ron what she was planning. He was probably hoping that the two of them together would stand a better a chance of convincing her of the dangers of her plan. This was yet another thing she needed to talk to Ron about and soon. There was no doubt in her mind that he would react as badly as Harry had, probably even more so. Ron had never had much success when it came to controlling his temper.

While she watched the game unfold in front of her, it didn't take long as she had predicted for Ron to check Harry's knight and then his Queen, ending the game.

Harry groaned in frustration, while Ron smirked at him in triumph. "You think he'd be used to losing by now," Ron said to her. He closed his hand over hers on the table, which came as bit of a shock to her. Since coming to Grimmauld Place, they had been careful about touching in front of Harry. Ron had obviously decided he was tired of that and if Harry had any sort of problems with them he should come to them and deal with it. It was one less person for them to hide from. They were very careful about how they acted in front of everyone else. Hermione was beginning to think they should just bite the bullet and tell Ron's parents, but Ron had quickly put an end to that line of thinking. He had explained to her that if his mother knew, she would make it her job to see that they didn't spend one minute alone together. After that she felt inclined to agree that maybe now wasn't the best time to let anyone else know. She was thinking they would have to do something about the summer when she caught herself and remembered they wouldn't be spending the summer together. She wouldn't even be in the same country as him.

"I think I'm going to turn in," announced Harry, rising to his feet.

"You sure you don't want to play again?" Ron goaded him.

Harry made a comment about leaving with his dignity intact before saying goodnight to the both of them and heading upstairs. With Harry gone, it was the first time they had really been alone since leaving Hogwarts. It didn't take long for a few kisses to turn into a full-fledged snog session on the couch in the den, where anyone could walk in and see them. After awhile Hermione suggested they go upstairs, and since Ron's room was out of the question because he was sharing with Harry, hers became the logical choice.

She wasn't sure what had even possessed her to suggest going upstairs in the first place. When she was around Ron she seemed to lose her sense of rational thought, much like she was right now, lying together on her bed, letting Ron kiss her and touch her. Guilt stabbed at her because she knew she was going to break his heart when he found out she was moving away, and even more so because she was going to put off her plans for telling him until tomorrow. Yes, she was probably being selfish, but she and Ron had already wasted so much time fighting and denying their feelings, was it really going to hurt if she waited a few more hours to tell him?

Ron, who had stopped kissing his way down her neck when he felt her tense up, asked, "is this okay?"

She nodded and caressed his face with the back of her hand.

"Because I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. We don't have to – I mean I could go back to my room right now if that's what you wanted."

She cupped his face with her hands. "If I want you to back off you'll be the first to know."

That was a good enough response for Ron, who put aside all his hesitations, trusting Hermione enough to tell him when to stop.

When Harry came downstairs for breakfast, he was well aware that it was too silent for a Tuesday morning at the Black House. He remembered from the summer that Tuesday and Friday mornings were characterized by meetings in the dining room, which would include every Order member who was available to attend.

He walked into the kitchen, but there was only Ginny there, sitting alone eating toast. He wondered if she had plans for the day because she was already dressed and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, while he was still in his pajamas.

"Morning," Ginny said when she saw him. "Mum made breakfast earlier if you want some."

There was indeed plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast sitting on the counter. He helped himself to a little bit of everything. The food was still hot, so Mrs. Weasley must have put a heating charm on the plates.

"Wow… I can't remember the last time I saw you eat that much at once," said Ginny.

Harry shrugged. Once he had swallowed the eggs he had been chewing, he said, "I hadn't really noticed my appetite was off."

Great. Now a casual observation on her part had been turned in to making it look like she followed his eating patterns at every meal. Maybe she had done that in the past, but she wasn't an eleven year old anymore, staring at Harry in hero worship awe.

"Where is everyone?" He asked her.

She pointed to the closed dining room doors. "They've been in there for a while now, the whole lot of them. Someone put a silencing charm up so we can't hear anything," she added grumpily.

"That's odd," he said, frowning slightly. "They've never done that before."

"They started doing that in the summer before you got here. Things are either a lot more serious now or they just don't want us listening in anymore," said Ginny. "It's completely unfair because no one will tell us anything anymore. At least when we could use Fred and George's extendable ears we had some idea of what was going on."

"Are you going somewhere?" He asked abruptly.

"I'm meeting Dean in Diagon Alley today," she told him.

"And your mum's just letting you go?"

"Why wouldn't she? It's just for one day. It's not like anyone wants to kill me."

"You should be careful," he cautioned her.

"Of who? Dean?" She said, giving him a strange look. Harry never acted this way towards her. He was always overprotective of Hermione and Ron, but never with her.

Harry stared down at his plate. "So you just took him back?" He said, pushing the food around with his fork.

She felt a flush creep in to her cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of a tart."

"That's not what I meant."

She glared daggers at him. "Then what did you mean, Harry?"

Just one look at her eyes and he could see how furious she was with him. It was the strangest feeling knowing he had been the one to make her that way. He had never gotten into an argument with her before but it was easy to see then that she shared the same infamous Weasley temper that Ron displayed on many occasions. What confused him was he didn't even know what he had said to make her angry in the first place. She was the one who had put words in his mouth and had turned everything around to make it look like his fault. He was saved from having to say anything though when Ron walked in.

"Morning," he said cheerfully, strolling into the kitchen.

For the moment, Ginny seemed to forget she was angry at Harry, allowing herself to marvel at her brother's strange behaviour. "Someone's in a good mood this morning," she noted.

"Is there anything wrong with that?" He said, pouring himself a glass of juice and joining them at the table.

"Nothing, except you're always a right grouch in the morning, no matter what time you get up at. Would I be correct in assuming that Hermione will be equally chipper as well?"

Ron gave her his deadliest stare. "Shut it, Gin. I mean it."

Growing up with Fred and George as brothers had taught her to press matters as long as you knew you had the advantage, and she most certainly had the upper hand. "So that wasn't you I heard leaving her room at the crack of dawn? My room is right across the hall, I could hear – "

"Isn't there somewhere you need to be?" He growled, his good mood fading rapidly.

She was almost shocked that Ron was acting so casual over her spending the day with Dean. She almost felt bad now for teasing him but not quite. "Have a good day, Ron," she said sweetly, getting up from the table and putting her dishes in the sink. "Bye, Harry," she said before walking out of the kitchen.

When she was gone, he and Ron sat there in silence. Though Ginny had said what she had to mercilessly tease her brother, Harry also knew it was the absolute truth. He was a very light sleeper and when he had heard Ron come to bed it had been close to four in the morning.

"It sounded like you and Ginny arguing about something before I walked in," said Ron, breaking the silence.

"It wasn't anything, really," Harry said to him.

Silence settled in between them again, and this time Ron decided to broach the subject that was making them both uncomfortable. "You know what Ginny said – I mean she doesn't know when to shut up – "

Harry cut him off there, not needing to be given any details about last night. "Ron, it's all right, you don't owe me any explanations."

Ron looked to be relieved at that, but there was still one more thing troubling him. "So, are you okay with what's happened with Hermione and me?"

"I'm fine with it, really. I'm happy for you two."

"You could try and sound a little more convincing, Harry," said Ron.

Harry looked down at his plate. He meant what he said, even if it hadn't sounded all that convincing. It was just the idea of his two best friends getting together was going to take some getting used to, especially when he hadn't sorted out his own feelings for Hermione. Did they end at friendship, or was there something more? After his conversation with Ginny before the Christmas break, he really wasn't sure about anything, except that he valued his friendship with Ron too much to do something that stupid – again. "When I kissed her, she pushed me away. She wants you, Ron," he said, forcing himself to look at his friend as he said it. He owed Ron that much. "I just thought you should know that," he finished, breaking eye contact.

If the silence between them had been uncomfortable before it was unbearable now. The topic of him kissing Hermione was still a touchy subject for Ron. Neither had broached the subject before now, but Harry felt it was finally time to clear the air between them. If Ron still felt the need to hit him for his mistake, then so be it. Ron, however, was surprisingly calm. It almost had Harry worried because he wasn't saying anything. Before the silence could get too excruciating, their mutual best friend walked into the kitchen.

She said good morning to them both before joining them at the table. She and Ron exchanged this look that caused Harry to take an immense interest in the remaining uneaten food on his plate.

"You going to eat anything?" Ron asked her.

"Maybe later," she answered. "There's something we need to talk about first."

Ron dropped the hand that had been reaching for his glass of juice. The sheer seriousness of her tone told him this was not going to be a conversation he liked. He was reminded of earlier in the year when Seamus had told him that anytime a girl wants 'to talk' no good could come from it.

Hermione noticed the panicked expression on his face and quickly said, "it's something that I've been working on for awhile now."

He breathed somewhat easier after that. How bad could it be then? It was probably another SPEW campaign or the like.

Harry got up to leave them alone, but Hermione stopped him. "You need to hear this too, Harry." She looked at the closed doors to the dining room and knew that Order members could start walking out of there at any moment. Aside from that, there was always so many people coming and going at Grimmauld Place they couldn't be sure who would drop in on them. "We can't talk about it here," she said, purposely lowering her voice. "Let's go up to my room."

Ron was beyond curious at this point. He didn't know what she could possibly want to talk to them about that would explain why she was acting so secretive.

When they were all inside her room she closed the door and faced them. "I've been doing some research for the last month, but I didn't say anything before now because I didn't have any real evidence that it would work."

Ron glanced at Harry, who didn't seem surprised at all by Hermione's words. In fact, he looked like he knew exactly what she was referring to. "Enough with the suspense, Hermione, just tell us what it is already."

"I've been looking into the different kinds of sacrificial magic," she started. "I think it's possible to recreate one similar to the one Harry's mother performed on him.

Ron stared at her blankly before turning to Harry. "You knew about this?"

"I wanted to be the one to tell you, Ron," Hermione interjected before Harry could say anything, "because I knew how you would react."

"Then why are we even having this conversation? Because you obviously knew I would never agree for you to do this."

"It wouldn't be just me – it would be the three of us. The three of us would have be involved in order for it to work."

"This is crazy," Ron said, shaking his head. "You're talking about dying – "

"No one has to die," she cut in. "As I was trying to explain to Harry before there are different types of sacrificial magic. Your willingness to give up your life for the other person is what builds the spell. The stronger that intent, the more powerful the spell would be."

"So the more willing I am to die for you or Harry, increases the chances of it working?"

"That's a part of it, yes," she replied. "But the protection spell Harry's mother put on him was built on love. Magic centered around love is one of the strongest there is and therefore the hardest to break."

"Tell him what the spell entitles," Harry said.

Hermione gritted her teeth. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to try and explain her plan to the two of them at the same time. They were more interested in teaming up against her then listening to what she had to say. "To save the life of someone, you would need to be willing to give up the strongest part of who you are – a part of your soul." She watched as Ron's eyes widened at this, but plunged on before he could have an opportunity to interrupt. "The spell is meant for two people, but since for obvious reasons that won't work in our case, I think I could extend it to include a third person. Once the spell is completed you wouldn't feel anything. The only time you would feel the spell was if one of us died or was near death." She said the last part without looking at either one of them, but she could tell their expressions regardless. "Once the spell is cast, a person can be kept alive for a time until they can get help. If the injuries are too severe, we would have to use the power of the spell to heal them our self. At least one of us would have to be with the injured person in order to sustain their life."

Ron rubbed a weary hand against his forward. "Did you get all that?" He said, turning to Harry. "Because it all went right over my head."

"I can show you the research I have so far on the subject," she told them.

"Why are you still talking like we're going to do this?" He said to her. "Hermione, this magic is way beyond you – way beyond any of us."

"I can make this work," she stated unflinchingly.

"Look, we've heard enough, and I think I can safely say both Harry and I agree we're not going to do this. There's too many uncertainties. I mean, giving up a part of your soul? You don't even know what the effects of that could be, do you?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "I haven't found any evidence – "

"And what about being able to heal the person? We could end up doing more harm then good and I bet there's a good chance the people doing the healing are putting themselves at risk. Not to mention that you're changing the spell to accommodate a third person – that could completely screw everything up."

Those were all valid points, and Hermione's silence told him that. "Would you at least look at the spell I mapped out?" Without even waiting for his answer, she pulled out a very ragged looking book from under her mattress, opened it to the correct page and dropped it in Ron's hands. "We only need a few ingredients but they may be hard to acquire. Performing the spell that essentially binds our life forces together shouldn't be that difficult." _It's just making it work may be a bit more complicated_, she added silently. She had to take this one step at a time, she reminded herself. If she wanted them to commit to this, she was going to have to tell them everything.

Ron let out a low whistle as he skimmed the page. "Difficult? I'd wager every one of ingredients would be next to impossible to find, not to mention illegal. Where do you think you're going to – " He stopped in mid sentence, his eyes blazing. "That's why you agreed to detention with Snape, isn't it? You think you'll just be able to steal whatever you need?"

"I'll be alone in his office long enough to take what we need. We won't need a lot so he shouldn't notice anything missing," she reasoned.

"Hermione, do you realize how fucked up this whole thing is? You want us to risk our lives on something that will probably end up doing more harm then good. Did you even bother to think about that, or did you just ignore it altogether because Hermione Granger knows everything?"

"I wouldn't have even proposed this if I didn't think it could work. Do you really think I want to put any of lives in danger?" She shouted back at him. "I think knowing the potential the spell has makes it an acceptable risk."

"Not to me it doesn't," Ron said, his eyes still blazing. Completely fed up and frustrated by the whole thing, he stormed passed Harry out from the room and downstairs. He could hear Hermione's footsteps following after him, but he didn't stop until he was at the front door pulling his boots on.

"Ron, where are you going? We need to talk about this."

He didn't need to look at her face to know she was furious – he could hear it in her tone. Instead of responding, he grabbed his coat and yanked the door open, letting it slam loudly behind him. Once it was shut, not even Mrs. Black's screams could penetrate it.

When Hermione made the decision to go after Ron, she kept in mind that it was probably not the best thing to do. Ron needed time to clear his head and arguing with him was only going to make things worse. But if she hadn't learned that yet in the six years she had known him, she wasn't about to start listening to that voice in her head that was telling her this was a bad idea.

It was freezing out. Of course if she had known she was going to go chasing after someone in the freezing cold she would have dressed warmer. She knew where he was heading even if she couldn't see him, since there weren't many other places to go that were nearby. Her hope was to get the both of them back before the Order ended their meeting and noticed they were gone.

Sure enough she came across him standing by the now frozen over lake, with his arms crossed over his broad shoulders. The sound of the snow crunching under her boots gave her presence away.

"I don't think you want to talk to me right now," Ron warned, keeping his back to her.

She didn't back off. "Ron, we need to go back. If your mum finds out we're gone – "

"I really don't care about that. I'm sick of being stuck inside that god damn house for days at a time," he scowled.

"Now you have a better understanding of what Harry's had to endure his whole life, being shut up at the Dursley's," she said, coming to stand beside him.

He glared at her briefly before turning back to stare at the ice-covered surface.

"Ron, I know you're upset," she began, softening her voice. "But if you stop to think about it, you'll realize how important this spell is."

"It's rubbish. We're doing fine keeping ourselves alive without magic."

"Things are getting worse. It might be the best defense we have."

The hardened look remained on his face, but he didn't protest. "There's something else I have to tell you," she said slowly. She couldn't put this off any longer.

"Bloody hell…" he groaned. "What else are you planning?" He asked, turning a suspicious look on her.

"I'm leaving," she said before she could lose her nerve. "Leaving Hogwarts."

Ron stared at her in her disbelief for several long seconds, positive that he had misheard her or it was some sort of a joke – one of those ill-timed, inappropriate jokes that tended to be his trademark. The expression on her face told him otherwise. "You're – you're serious?"

"My dad's pulling me out. He doesn't think it's safe here anymore. I tried talking to him, but he wouldn't listen. He doesn't understand the magical world and it frightens him everything that I've been exposed to. He thinks this is the only way to protect me."

"You can't leave," he said.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. "I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," he said, turning his powerful blue eyes on her. "Tell him you won't go. You could become your own legal guardian – "

"I can't do that to him," she cut in gently. "Not after everything he's been through. Now that my mum's gone, I'm all he has left."

"When are you leaving?" He braced himself for the answer.

"I'm not sure, probably the end of January. He still has to find a place for us to live."

That meant they had little more than a month left. Not much time at all. "Where are you going to live?"

She hesitated, but only for a second. Her father had not wanted her to tell anyone where she was going, but this was Ron, she had to tell him – but he wasn't going to like the answer. "Luxembourg."

"You're leaving the bloody country!" He exclaimed. He was going to have trouble accepting her leaving Hogwarts, but leaving England altogether? He couldn't handle that. "You're going to have this whole other life. We'll never even see each other." He realized he was shouting. He wasn't angry at her, but he needed to vent his frustrations.

"I don't want to spend the next month fighting," she said to him.

He almost picked a fight with her then, just so she would feel some of the frustration and anger he was feeling, but he stopped himself. It wouldn't be fair. She didn't want this any more then he did. "I guess this doesn't matter any more then," he said, removing a small rectangular box from his jacket pocket.

She looked questioningly at the box, not understanding what he was getting at.

"I wanted to get you something really nice for Christmas, but I couldn't really afford anything," he mumbled embarrassedly, "so I thought maybe you would – but I don't know – " he stopped his rambling like an idiot and just handed her the box.

She pulled off the top lid. There was a shinny silver badge glinting up at her. _Her_ prefect badge.

"I know you said you didn't care about it, but I know you better than that. I know how much being a Prefect means to you, and I couldn't stand by and let Snape take that away from you because he gets some sort of sick twisted pleasure out of torturing Gryffindors," he said, trying to justify his actions because she hadn't said a word since she had seen what was in the box. "I went to see McGonagall, and had barely said two words about what happened before she got up and marched down to Snape's office to get it back. I wish you could have been there to hear what she said to him. You're not angry, are you?"

He looked so worried that she was going to berate him for going to McGonagall, she felt bad for him. "I'm not angry with you. It's just I can't believe you did this for me. It's so – I don't know what to say." There were unleashed tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe barely five minutes ago she had been furious with him, and now none of that really seemed to matter.

He shuffled his feet in the snow. "I guess it doesn't mean as much now, with you leaving and all – "

She silenced him by placing a finger against his lips. "It means everything to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper now.

Ron came to let his forehead rest against hers. "I don't want you to go," he said, his voice raw with emotion.

"I don't want to go either," she said, feeling the first tears slip down her cheeks. She had held everything in for so long, it felt like she was coming undone. Ron didn't say a word, he just held her close.

The next month was going to be terribly hard on them both.

Happy holidays everyone!

I'll try to have the next chapter up later this week.


	16. Weasley's Holiday Recipe For Disaster

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Weasley's Holiday Recipe For Disaster

Ginny was lying under the covers of her bed, skimming through the latest issue of _Witch Weekly _before turning in for the night. Hermione had come in earlier to borrow something and had ranted on about how Ginny could read some of the rubbish they wrote in there. Ginny had politely pointed out that it was a lot more reliable then what had been written in the _Prophet_ in the past, but left it at that. She knew Hermione read the occasional copy of _Witch Weekly_, but had neglected to mention that for the very same reason Hermione had snapped at her for reading it. Ron. The two of them seemed to be stuck in some sort of a row, and yet it wasn't a row. But anyone who knew them could tell things weren't right and it probably had a lot to do with her leaving.

"Anything good in there?" She heard a voice ask, snapping her from her daze.

She put down her magazine to see Harry standing in her doorway. She had forgotten Hermione hadn't closed her door again when she left, otherwise he would have kept on walking.

"Not really. Just the same old stuff," she replied, closing it up and placing it on the covers.

"I guess that just means they've ran out of stories about me to write. What a shame," he said sarcasticly.

She wondered how long he planned on standing there. "You can come in Harry," she said at last, when it became clear he wasn't going to move without an invitation from her.

He crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed. She was beginning to wonder if it was such a good idea inviting him in. She was wearing only a thin nightgown because it was always so warm in the house and anyone who walked by would wonder what Harry was doing in her room – because he never came to her room. She realized she was giving herself too much credit. Harry didn't see her that way.

"How was your date with Dean?" He asked, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

She brought herself into sitting in a cross-legged position on her bed, with the comforter covering just below her stomach. "That was two days ago!" She exclaimed. "Of course, you haven't bothered to talk to me 'til now."

He opened his mouth as if to argue but he thought better of it and closed it firmly. He couldn't lie his way out of this. He had made a rather obvious point of not talking to her unless it was necessary. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I didn't mean for what I said to come out the way it did. I know you're not like that Ginny."

It was good to hear an apology from him, but what was curious to her was that he was making it seem like he knew her. When in reality, she and Harry weren't that close at all. "You're forgiven," she said after several drawn out moments, not wanting it to seem like she had given in so easily.

The sound of a door slamming shut made Ginny nearly jump out from under her bed covers, while Harry looked serene and calm. She didn't know how he could stand it. They both knew it had been Ron who had slammed the door. Over the last few days he had made a habit of slamming doors shut wherever he went. It was getting to be a bit much for Ginny. "I think I'm going to kill him if he keeps this up much longer," she told Harry.

"You should give him a break. He's having a rough time right now," said Harry.

"You don't want Hermione to leave either but I don't see you slamming every door in sight."

"It's different for Ron," Harry said in a low voice, and there was no need for him to say more. Changing the subject, he said, "you didn't answer my question about Dean."

"We had a good time together," she said, not giving him any more details then that. Harry wasn't entitled to know the details of her personal life. When it didn't look like he was buying into her answer, she added, "I know Dean made mistakes but he's a decent guy, Harry."

"I'm a decent guy," said Harry.

With the dim lighting in the room she couldn't tell if his face was red or not, but it looked like he hadn't meant to say the last part out loud.

"What I meant," Harry began, correcting himself, "is that you deserve better than someone who's just decent."

She wondered how much the shock of his words showed up on her face. This was by far the most personal, almost intimate conversation she had ever had with him. When had Harry Potter become so concerned with her love life? "Why did you really stop by my room tonight, Harry?" She asked with some curiousity.

"I just wanted to say goodnight," he said, getting up. "Goodnight, Gin."

"Goodnight, Harry."

There was only one thing that could put Ron in an even fouler mood than he already was and that was being woken up at seven thirty in the morning by the sounds of his parents yelling at each other downstairs. He rolled onto his stomach and grabbed his pillow to cover his ears, but that did little more than muffle the shouting. The sound of sheets rustling in the bed next to him told him Harry was awake also. Fed up, Ron tossed the pillow aside and dragged himself out of bed wanting to know what all the yelling was about. His Christmas Eve was looking even bleaker now. He had been on a short fuse for days and on top of that he was going to be even more of a prat for having his sleep interrupted. Without waiting for Harry, he made for the hallway, finding the girls already at the top of the stairs listening.

"What's going on?" He asked his sister.

"Something to do with Percy," she whispered.

That made sense. There were only a few topics that could get his parents this upset and Percy Weasley was one of them.

Harry emerged from the bedroom then, adjusting his glasses on his face. He opened his mouth presumably to ask the same question Ron had, but Ginny put a finger to her lips to silence him.

"Maybe we shouldn't be listening in," said Hermione.

"They should have thought about that before they woke everyone up," Ron said.

Hermione didn't miss how he purposely avoided looking at her, even when he was speaking directly to her. She wanted to be angry at him, but couldn't. He was as upset about her leaving as she was. The difference was he was reacting in typical Ron Weasley fashion – being short tempered and snappish with anyone who came within three feet of him.

All the shouting had set off Mrs. Black's portrait. She was screaming up a storm, but as of yet no one had bothered to calm her down.

"Let's go down," said Ginny, obviously in agreement with her brother.

While the group of them took the stairs down, they could now hear Moody's voice join the conversation.

"You can't bring him here," Moody was saying, his tone unbending. "I won't have the security of this house and what goes on here comprised, just because you think your son has had a change of heart."

"You make it sound like Percy was in league with You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley said outraged.

"Molly, Mad-Eye is right – we can't take any chances," said Arthur Weasley, his voice much more calmer. "Not until we know more."

"Mum, he chose to believe Fudge over his own family," said Charlie, who had just arrived at Grimmauld Place the night before. "And now that the ministry has finally admitted the truth he comes crawling up to dad at work, saying he wants to work things out and you're just going to let him. He wouldn't even come visit dad when he was in St. Mungo's last year. Didn't you read those letters he wrote saying how we were no longer his family? Mum, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven this easily."

"Charlie's right," said Ron, stepping into view of the adults, and raising his voice to be heard over Mrs. Black's wails. "He left us, so it serves him right."

"Ron, Charlie, that's enough," said Arthur, his voice stern. "Percy may have done a lot of things we didn't like but he's still your brother and our son. Maybe you can't understand, but that doesn't change the fact that Percy came to me wanting a chance to set things right. However, I do agree with Alastor that it's prudent to proceed with caution. But what he forgets is that the decision isn't up to him – it's up to Harry. This is his house after all."

While all eyes fell on him, Harry tried not to look at anyone. He had forgotten up until that point that the Black house was his now. He had told Lupin that he hadn't wanted it, but it didn't change the fact that it was still his and whatever decision he made the adults would abide by it. He tried not to let what Percy had written about him in a letter to Ron last year impede his judgment. "There's nothing wrong with being careful," he said slowly. "Can't we just spend tomorrow at The Burrow and Percy could come there?"

Ron, Charlie, and Moody were all nodding their heads in satisfied agreement. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Mrs. Weasley. He hadn't actually come out and said it but he had admitted he didn't trust Percy either.

"Good call, Potter," said Moody. "I'll talk to Tonks about setting up some barriers around The Burrow for tomorrow. If your son still wants to spend Christmas with his family, that's where it'll be." Moody excused himself without another word to anyone. Mrs. Black's screaming drowned out the sound of the front door closing. Mrs. Weasley left soon after to try and calm her down.

"You made the right decision," Mr. Weasley assured Harry, clasping him on the shoulder before leaving to help his wife.

Despite his assurances, there was nothing Harry hated more then having to distrust a member of the Weasley family, even if that person was Percy. The Weasley's had been so good to him he felt like he had betrayed Mrs. Weasley somehow by not allowing Percy into Grimmauld Place. Even though they all had good reasons to distrust Percy, it had torn Mr. and Mrs. Weasley up so much to have one of their children alienated, he hoped Percy proved them all wrong.

Christmas Day was supposed to be a cause for celebration for families. They weren't supposed to spend the day waiting anxiously for an estranged member of their family to show up. Mrs. Weasley had been a wreck from the moment they had gotten up and started opening presents. She was easily distracted and unable to sit still. She ended up spending most of the morning in the kitchen cooking and baking. It didn't escape Harry that though Mrs. Weasley was as friendly and warm to him as always, she wouldn't meet his eyes. He didn't think it was possible to feel worse about not allowing Percy at Grimmauld Place, but he just had to look at Mrs. Weasley and it piled on the guilt.

By the time Percy arrived around noon, she had made enough to feed them all well into the new year. Every member of the Weasley family was present at The Burrow, along with Harry, Hermione, Tonks, and Lupin.

Percy actually knocked on the door instead of just walking in. Mrs. Weasley answered it before anyone else could move. Surprisingly, he was not alone. He had brought along his long-time girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater.

"Hello, mum," Percy said, from where he stood on the front steps.

Mrs. Weasley wasted no time in embracing him. With tear brimmed eyes, she hugged her son fiercely. It was the first time she had laid eyes on him in almost a year. "I'm so glad you're here," she said when she finally let go and Percy was able to breathe again. "We all missed you so much."

"Speak for yourself, mum," Fred muttered under his breath. That earned him a steely gaze, which served as a warning to say that he better behave if he knew what was good for him.

"Mother, you remember Penelope?" Said Percy, un-phased by his brother's comment.

"Of course I do," she said smiling brightly. "How have you been, dear?"

"Fine, thank you," she said politely. "I hope you don't mind but Percy said it would be all right if I joined you for Christmas since my parents are out of the country."

"Of course it's all right," she said embracing the woman in much the same way she had Percy.

"He couldn't even face mum alone. He had to bring his girlfriend along," said George out of the corner of his mouth. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and Ron all snickered.

"Not that I blame him," Fred added quietly.

"Boys, that's enough," their father warned, while Mrs. Weasley turned a reproachful look on them.

"Come on, you lot. Say hello to Percy," she said to her other children. Her tone suggested there was no getting out of it.

Almost as one, they muttered a chorus of greetings, but none of them moved closer to her brother.

"Let's get you inside," said Mrs. Weasley, ushering them in. "It's freezing out here." One by one, she took their cloaks and magicked them into the closet.

"Can we go now, dad?" Said an impatient Charlie.

"Yes, all right then," he answered, though he was clearly distracted. This was hardly the happy reunion he had been hoping for.

The twins sighed in relief and bounded upstairs, while Bill and Charlie took seats in the living room and turned on the wireless, looking for a match to listen to. Ron grabbed his jacket and gloves, heading for the back door. No one even dared to ask where he was going. Hermione tried not to look concerned but Harry could see through the act. It must have been killing her not to go after him.

"Well, isn't this a cheerful Christmas," muttered Ginny under her breath.

Harry was inclined to agree with her.

Of all those present at The Burrow, it was only Harry who dared to venture outside and confront Ron, who was mercilessly throwing snowball after snowball against the side of the house. Compared to the tension inside, it was a lot easier to breathe out there. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were engaging Percy in polite but non-threatening conversation, while his siblings did little to interact with him. To Harry, it didn't really seem like Percy had changed at all. Sure, he had finally come around to see the truth but not once had he offered up an apology to his family for his behaviour. The only person this didn't seem to bother was Mrs. Weasley, who was just happy to have her son back in her life.

As he watched Ron, who continued to outright ignore him, he wondered what he should say. Ron had been in such a rotten mood lately, he felt if he opened his mouth the wrong way the other boy would snap his head off. The only thing that stopped him from going back inside was he had promised Hermione he would see if Ron was all right, and since she was unable to do it herself that left him to do the job.

"Are you ever going to give that up?" Harry dared to ask his friend.

Ron glanced at him briefly before squatting down to pick up some more snow. "Go away, Harry."

"Believe me, Ron, I'd love nothing more than to do that, but Hermione's worried about you so I told her I'd check on you."

Ron raised a menacing eyebrow. "She can't even talk to me herself now? She has to send you to do it?"

"You wanker," said Harry, losing his temper. "She thinks you're angry with her, and it's no wonder considering the way you've been acting around her."

Ron opened his mouth to object and then shut it. He took the snowball in his hand and hurled it against the wall. "I'm not mad at her," he said, still facing the wall.

Harry gave a snort of disbelief. "If that's true then you're acting like the biggest selfish bastard I've ever met."

Ron walked over to Harry until their faces were almost touching and then shoved him backwards. Not enough to send him stumbling back, but enough that Harry got the message loud and clear. If he came out here looking for a fight, Ron was going to give it to him.

"I don't need this shit from you, Harry, because you have no idea what I'm feeling."

"Oh, I don't?" Harry shot back. "I think I know a thing or two about sulking, which is exactly what you've been doing for days now. You've been too busy walking around here feeling sorry for yourself instead of making the most of the time you have left with Hermione. Stop punishing her for this. Do you really think she wants to leave?" Harry shouted at him.

Ron shoved Harry away from himself, but where Harry thought it was going to come to blows right there, Ron gave no other hints that he wanted to do bodily harm to his friend.

"It's not fair," said Ron, raking his gloved hands through his hair.

Harry sighed in understanding. "I know it's not. Nothing about this war is."

Ron, who appeared much calmer now, stood in silent contemplation for a short while before saying, "I've seen you going through that spell book with her."

Just when Harry had thought the fighting was over, he was sure it was bound to start again. "I know how dangerous it sounds and I was completely opposed to it in the beginning, but I don't think there's anything we can say to stop Hermione from doing this."

"She won't have a spell to do if we don't participate," Ron reasoned, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

"You're right," Harry agreed, "but then she could go and try something even worse without telling us."

Ron wondered how anything else could be worse. "You know why she's obsessed with this, don't you? She lost her mum and she thinks she's going to lose us too, and there's nothing we can say to her to convince her otherwise."

"I guess we agree to do it then," said Harry, though not any fonder about the idea than Ron.

"I guess so," Ron agreed. He turned to Harry, his expression unreadable. "You do realize how horribly wrong the spell could turn out?"

Harry acknowledged Ron's concerns with a nod, but didn't think it was necessary to add his own to the mix. He was sure Ron shared them as well.

After their conversation, Harry was only mildly surprised that Ron decided to give up his barrage of snowball throwing and follow him back into the house.

The instant Harry pulled out the back door, it was like The Burrow had disappeared and had been replaced by a family war zone. The twins, Hermione and Ginny, were off to one side, watching Lupin and Penelope trying to calm Mrs. Weasley down, while Mr. Weasley and Tonks were attempting to diffuse what had started it in the first place. Bill and Percy were the centre of it all. Bill, who was a good three inches taller and quite a lot bigger in build, towered over his younger brother.

"How daft do you think we are?" Bill yelled. "You think we wouldn't figure out why you were asking dad all these questions about his job and running for Minister?"

"Once again, Bill, you've jumped to the wrong conclusion," Percy said smoothly.

"Oh, I have, have I? Come off it, Percy. You know that once Fudge is out of job, you're going to be right there with him and no decent wizard is going to hire anyone who ever supported that bastard."

"Bill, that's enough!" Mr. Weasley shouted firmly. "You're upsetting your mother."

"Dad, Percy's the one whose upsetting mum," Charlie spoke up. "He's the only one of us she spent most of last year crying over."

"Charlie, don't involve yourself in this too," his father said, madder than Harry had ever seen him.

"You're using mum and dad to save your own arse," Bill went on, ignoring his father's request.

"I don't need to stand here and listen to my own family accuse me of things beyond their comprehension," Percy said, showing the first signs of anger.

"Family?" Bill snorted in disbelief. "You lost your family when you turned your back on us last year."

"Penny, we're leaving," said Percy, turning and heading for the door.

Penelope followed after him, avoiding the angry glares of his brothers. Percy threw open the front door, before she ever had her cloak on.

"Percy, please don't leave," said a frantic Mrs. Weasley coming after him.

"I'm sorry mum," he said, walking outside with Penelope. "Happy Christmas."

Then he was gone, leaving a sobbing Mrs. Weasley behind in The Burrow's doorway.

Mr. Weasley rushed over to comfort his wife, talking in a low voice to try and calm her down. He led her in the direction of the stairs, and turned back to face Bill and Charlie. "You two stay right there. When I come back down we're going to talk about your appalling behaviour."

Even after Ron's parents had disappeared up the stairs, The Burrow was silent. No one seemed to have any words for the spectacle that had just happened. Ron, having had enough family fun for one day, and not wanting to be around when his dad came back and rounded on his older brothers, walked back towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bill snapped at him in a similar tone he had been spoken to Percy in – one that annoyed the hell out of Ron.

"I'm going outside. I'm not the one dad's coming down to yell at," he said and yanked the back door open.

The bitter cold was preferable to the muffled shouting he could hear starting up again inside. They probably set the record for the worst bloody Christmas in wizarding history.

Hermione had just finished changing into her nightgown and was about to climb into bed with her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_, which had been helping her get to sleep recently, when there was a knock at her door.

She pulled it open to find Ron standing there looking rather anxious. "Can I come in?" _Not that I blame you if you say no because I've acted like a bastard for the better part of the week as Harry put it_, he added to himself.

She didn't answer his question, but she did move aside, giving him the room he needed to walk in. When he was in, he shut the door softly behind him so as not to wake anyone. They were back at Grimmauld Place. His mum had gone straight to her bedroom and had not come out since. His dad was the angriest Ron had ever seen him – and it wasn't often that his dad got mad. He was furious with each one of his children, except Ginny of course. She always seemed to get out of everything because she was the baby.

Though Bill had been the one to make Percy leave, none of them had welcomed Percy with open arms to The Burrow. In Ron's opinion, Percy got what he deserved. He had abandoned them all and put his parents through hell. He hadn't done anything to prove to them that he was worthy of their forgiveness.

When he dragged himself away from his thoughts long enough to look at Hermione, he saw she had her arms folded across her chest, clutching her favourite book there, but she didn't appear angry. However, she did look as though she were waiting for him to give an explanation for showing up at her room in the middle of the night.

"I saw the light on under your door, so I figured you'd still be up," was the explanation he offered to her.

"I was just going to do a bit of reading before bed," she said, dropping _Hogwarts, A History_ onto her nightstand.

"I'm not mad at you," he stated abruptly, hating how bad things had gotten between them – and it was all his fault. "I'm _not_," he repeated, more convincing the second time. "I'm just angry with this whole situation and I didn't mean to take it out on you. I know it's not your fault you're leaving. I'm sorry for being an incredibly selfish and insensitive git."

For once in his life he had said the right words to her – _when_ she needed to hear them. She was no longer able to hold herself back – she launched herself into his arms.

He gladly enveloped her in his arms, holding her close. "I keep thinking how unfair this is," he murmured, letting his fingers run absently through her hair. "You and me, we've just – we've wasted so much time…"

"I know," she said, understanding exactly what he was feeling because she was feeling the same way.

Ron broke the embrace first and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. "Have I told you already that I don't want you to go?"

"Is it okay if we don't talk about that any more tonight?" She asked him. They had barely spoken in days, the last thing she wanted was to spend the time making up for it by discussing when she would be leaving.

Ron nodded in agreement, and given the late hour he figured he should probably let her get some sleep. He could tell by looking at her she wasn't sleeping well. "I should probably go. It's pretty late," he said after a moment.

"You don't have to," she told him.

He really didn't want to leave either. "I could spend the night in here with you," he said without thinking. When he saw the briefest hesitation flash in her eyes, he quickly said, "I don't have to. I should leave," he said and turned to go, but she caught his hand and the look she showed him was one of absolute trust.

She pulled back the covers and they both got in. She laid nestled against Ron's body with her back to him. He hesitated a second before draping a hand over her waist. When a few moments had passed and she still had not objected, he left it there and relaxed – or relaxed as much as he could with Hermione lying next to him.

He moved his face closer to her hair, breathing in the scent of it, and whispered for the first time, "I love you."

He didn't know if she was still awake, but she had heard him clearly and fell asleep for the first time in what felt like forever with a smile on her face.


	17. Quidditch Fights & Spells

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Quidditch Fights& Spells**

As much as Ginny loved Quidditch, she was not so fond of it on that particular January morning. Instead of having snow to contend with like during Gryffindor's last match, she was having to battle against the howling wind and down pour of rain. Her hands were frozen, even with gloves on, and every time she did manage to catch the Quaffle, it stung something awful. She wouldn't have minded the rain if it wasn't so damn cold.

By her own estimates, Gryffindor was still up by twenty points to Slytherin. She had only caught brief glimpses of Harry since the match had started, but even with his water repellent glasses the Snitch was still next to impossible to see through the heavy rain. She didn't dwell on Harry's search for the Snitch for too long because she had her own problems with the Slytherin Beaters. It didn't matter if they had a bludger to smack her way or not. They had taken to hitting her broom with their bats or jolting their brooms against hers. She knew the one girl, Sara, from classes, and she had been a viscous player since Ginny had joined the Gryffindor team last year. Ginny had seen her take out other Chasers and land them in the hospital wing for a week. Sara had sent a bludger flying into Katie's head earlier in the match. Katie had been unconscious for almost five minutes. When she had woken up she demanded to be allowed to play even though she was having trouble keeping her balance. In the end, Madame Hooch had to have Professor Flitwick escort her off the pitch and down to the hospital wing so she wouldn't try and jump back on her broom. So Gryffindor had been playing most of the match a Chaser short, but it hadn't dampened their play too much yet.

Squinting, Ginny moved from her current position to intercept an errant pass from a Slytherin Chaser. She flew off with the Quaffle, avoiding a screaming bludger as she passed the Quaffle off to Dean. He beat out the Keeper, scoring another ten points for Gryffindor.

While she had been watching the play unfold, another broomstick rammed with hers and she almost wasn't able to maintain her slippery hold on the handle. By the time Ginny regained her balance, the other Beater, which she was sure had been Sara, but couldn't tell for sure because visibility was so poor, was already speeding away. She could handle a rough game – what she couldn't handle was when the other team decided they were going to take out as many players as they could without a second thought. Gryffindor, Slytherin games were always grudge matches, but the rivalry seemed to be intensifying with each match.

She was flying off in search of the Quaffle again when she heard a loud whistle penetrate the rain signaling the end of the match. When she brought herself down lower where the visibility was a bit better, she could see Harry and his right fist closed tight. Instead of looking happy at the victory, his face was livid as he shouted at the person dismounting the broom beside him.

"I thought Gryffindors were above cheating, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "But I guess you're no better than the rest."

"You got what you deserved, Malfoy," Harry shouted back. "I should have thrown you off your broom like you were trying to do to me!"

"I saw you pull your wand on Harry," said Dean, joining the mix.

By now the rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams had landed. They were lining up against each other as if expecting a full out brawl. Despite that the match had ended, the full crowd was still gathered, anticipating a fight. Madame Hooch was in the thick of things trying to sort everyone out.

Ginny had gotten herself tangled with the Slytherin, Sara, who was saying, "If Gryffindors didn't think they were above the rules, they would never win against us."

"We can play the game better then the whole lot of you," Ginny seethed.

The other girl gave her a malicious grin. "You would never make it on a real Quidditch team. They don't take poor little girls wearing hand-me-downs."

Ginny did the most unexpected thing and sent her fist flying into the Slytherin's face. Up until that point it had strictly been verbal insults thrown back and forth between players, but now that Ginny had sent that other girl sprawling backwards, Slytherins had jumped in to advance on her and the Gryffindors jumped in to defend her. Before any more punches could be thrown, Madame Hooch blew her whistle loudly and stood between the feuding times.

"That's Enough! Everyone back off! The next person I see throwing a punch will be sitting in the stands for the rest of the season, is that understood?"

There were murmurs and grunts of acknowledgment, but neither side backed off until Madame Hooch began separating them.

"Miss Weasley and Miss Summerfield with me," she snapped. "Captains, with me as well."

Ginny faced a furious looking Hooch, who steered her in the direction of the castle. Sara followed as well, holding her injured eye. Malfoy, the Slytherin captain was helping her walk, and Ginny had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything. She knew she hadn't hit her that hard. With Katie gone, Harry was next on the team in seniority, who was looking every bit as furious as Ginny, as they followed Madame Hooch back up to the castle.

Ginny knew she was in deep trouble before she set foot in Professor McGonagall's office. Madame Hooch followed them in and several moments later they were joined by Snape and an equally fuming McGonagall who slammed the door shut.

"That was one of the most inappropriate displays I have ever been witness to during a Quidditch match. It was most certainly an unexpected sight coming from you, Miss Weasley, of all people," said McGonagall sharply.

Ginny opened her mouth to defend herself, but Harry not so gently nudged her in the ribs. His way of telling her to keep her mouth shut to avoid any more trouble.

"I'm afraid the only way to discourage this kind of future behaviour – and to hopefully prevent any future incidents between Gryffindor and Slytherin – is to suspend Miss Weasley for the next two matches – "

Ginny's mouth fell open in outrage, and she was not staying silent anymore. "_Two_ matches? Professor, that's not fair!" She didn't care how childish she sounded. She wasn't the one who had spent the match trying to land the other team in the hospital wing.

McGonagall turned a hawk-like look on her. "Weasley, do let me finish," she said sharply. "As I was saying, you will miss the next two matches and Miss Summerfield will miss Slytherin's next match."

Malfoy, who had been silently smirking at Harry and Ginny, let the smirk disappear off his face at that news, while Snape began to protest.

"Headmistress, I do not believe Summerfield's behaviour warrants such punishment. It was Weasley who instigated things."

"On the contrary, Severus, it was Miss Summerfield who was the instigator and Miss Weasley merely retaliated. I believe it's only fair that they both be punished."

Snape's lips curled into a thin line. "Of course, you must do as you see fit."

He pointed a hooked finger at Summerfield, who was nursing her bruised face, and then at Malfoy, before ushering them both out of the office. An incensed Snape cast Ginny and Harry a nasty look before leaving.

As soon as they were gone, Ginny tried to plead her case to McGonagall. "Professor, she spent the whole match trying to knock Gryffindors off their broom and she gets one game?"

"Weasley, you should be thankful you're only gone for two. If the decision was left up to Professor Snape you would probably be facing a lifetime ban. I cannot be seen showing favouritism to my own house, even when I have no doubt you are correct that Sara Summerfield was playing outside the rules. I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do."

"But Professor – "

"The matter is not up for discussion," she said severely.

"You can't suspend her," Harry final spoke up. "We'll have to play the next two matches a player short!"

"Potter, the matter is not up for discussion," she rounded on him. "I suggest you and Miss Weasley return to your common room before I decide the punishment needs adjusting. And don't look like that, Potter. I can hand out whatever punishment I see fit, regardless of my desire to see Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup again this year."

Knowing the next words that came out of his mouth would likely result in his own suspension from the team, Harry turned and stormed out of the office. He was so angry he could barely see straight. The only reason he was heading in the right direction towards Gryffindor Tower was out of habit. He couldn't believe McGonagall! And the smirk that bastard Malfoy kept sending his way had almost been enough for him to through caution to the wind and say a few choice words about the Slytherin Quidditch team, no matter how much trouble it landed him in.

"Harry, slow down!" Ginny called, finally catching up to him.

"Do you know the hell the next two games are going to be like with one less Chaser?" He rounded on her.

She took a step back, sure her ears were deceiving her. "I didn't do this on purpose!" She shouted. "You know what the Slytherins are like. You heard Malfoy after the match."

"But I didn't hit him, did I?" Harry snapped back.

"Oh, right I forgot, you and Ron can go around hitting whoever you like whenever you want, but the one time I lose my temper everything's my fault!"

"You should have been thinking about the team before you decided to have a go at Sara Summerfield. And now your selfish actions could end up costing us the next two matches."

Ginny was beyond fuming at this point. Instead of arguing with Harry further, she turned on her heel and stomped off in the opposite direction they had been heading in.

"Ginny!" He couldn't believe how much like a little kid she was acting. She didn't like what he had to say so she was running off.

She came to a halt and faced him angrily. "I think I better leave now before I hit someone else and cost Gryffindor another two matches," she said hotly and then resumed her angry departure.

"I think you were too hard on Ginny," said Ron. "She's getting enough of it from Katie, she doesn't need to hear the same shit from you."

They were sitting in the Room of Requirement waiting for Hermione to meet them there after her detention with Snape. She was supposedly grabbing the last of what they needed to complete the sacrifice spell. Up until that point she had been careful not to get caught. Ron prayed that night would not be any different.

Harry sighed in annoyance. "Don't you bloody-well get on my case about that too. Everyone thinks it's so great she slugged that girl, but no one seems to care that we're going to have to play Ravenclaw down a player."

"Look, the Slytherins are always running their mouths off, it was bound to happen sooner or later. So why the hell are you so mad at her?"

"Because it was stupid," Harry argued, knowing that wasn't much of an answer.

"And the great Harry Potter has never done anything stupid in his life," said Ron in a sarcastic voice.

"Sod off, Ron," Harry snapped.

"You know what? I think those few days you had as captain while Katie was in the hospital wing have gone to your head."

"Is that what you two have been doing all this time?" Said Hermione.

Neither one answered her. They had not even heard her walk in.

"Honestly, both of you grow up." Hermione turned to Ron and said, "Ron, let Ginny fight her own battles. She doesn't need you interfering." Ron started to protest but she was already turning and speaking to Harry. "And Harry, Ron is right. You're being too hard on Ginny. She had a poor lapse in judgment, so what? She's not perfect and for that matter, neither are you. Now if you both think you're mature enough to work together you can stay, otherwise get out and I'll do this alone. Well?"

There was no way Harry or Ron was going to let her do this on her own, so they both grudgingly agreed to put aside their differences for the moment and focus on the spell. When Hermione was convinced they were both going to behave she pulled out several small bags from the pockets of her robes.

"What is all that?" Ron asked her.

"The last of what we need," she answered cryptically.

"And you're sure Snape hasn't noticed you taking any of it?" Harry said, sounding worried.

"I'm positive," she replied. She almost added even if he did, it wouldn't matter because she was supposed to be leaving in the next two days anyways, but she didn't think either one of them would find that knowledge very amusing since they were already well aware of it themselves. She had received a letter from her father the previous week, saying he had found a place for them in Luxembourg near a dentist's office where he would be working. He was expecting her at Heathrow airport next Monday. He had sent her ticket with the letter.

"Does that mean we're going to do this now?" Ron said to her, the briefest hesitation in his voice.

She shook her head. "We have to wait until Sunday. These last few ingredients need a chance to sit together for a few nights."

"That's cutting it kinda close, Hermione," Harry noted.

"I know, but it's not like we have much choice." She began un-bagging the final ingredients she had brought with and measured the correct amount into the waiting cauldron sitting on the table.

"I think you're going to have to explain again to me how this works, because I'm still not getting it all," said Ron.

"It's not like your typical spell," she began, stopping her measuring for the moment. "You don't say the incantation and then drink a potion. There are no words. When Harry's mum died to save him, she didn't perform a spell at all. Everything she already needed was in her heart and it produced a protective magic powerful enough to repel the killing curse. What we're doing is a modified version of that, since you both made it clear you did not want to try remaking that same magic. Instead of us giving up our lives in order to protect each other, with the spell we're doing we'll be able to heal someone, possibly even over great distances. By combining our life forces, or rather our souls, we could heal the most severe injuries."

"So it's permanent, correct?" Ron asked her.

"Yes, it will always be there, but whether it will it always work that's something different altogether. Remember. I've had to alter the spell to accommodate a third person, and depending on how powerful a bond we can create will determine whether it will last five months or five years. But there's no way to tell if it works until the time comes to use it," she finished.

Both boys didn't ask any more questions after that, not wanting to distract Hermione from what she was doing. They tried not to think about how in a few day's time their souls would essentially be linked together and the consequences that would come from that.


	18. Saying Goodbye

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Saying Goodbye

It was well after curfew when the trio arrived at the Room of Requirement. It wasn't to avoid detection, since Ron and Hermione could easily say they were out on Prefect patrol, and Harry could hide himself without difficulty with his invisibility cloak. It had just taken that long for the common room to clear out. Lavender and Parvarti had insisted on throwing Hermione a good-bye party, ignoring Ron's grumblings that it wasn't anything to celebrate.

Upon returning from dinner, they had found the common room decorated in a red and gold banner that read _Good-bye Hermione_, each of the letters twinkling at random intervals. Hermione had looked so deeply touched, that it had taken every ounce of Ron's strength not to spend the party moping about. Hermione kept sending him these looks and he knew despite his best efforts it was rather obvious he did not want to be there. How could he? She was leaving tomorrow and he had no idea when he would see her again. They had been so busy the last few days preparing everything they would need for the sacrificial spell, they had rarely had time for anything else. He had always thought it was a crazy idea, and he hated it even more now because it had taken away from what little time they had left. He didn't care much at the moment that it could save their lives one day. It had to work first, and he had a feeling they were in way over their heads. The fact that they could be expelled if anyone found out what they were doing, was way at the bottom of Ron's list of concerns. Where Hermione had scolded him on his recklessness many times over the years, he knew what they were about to do was a million times more dangerous than anything they had done in the past.

When Hermione turned the brass handle to the Room of Requirement and the three of them walked in, the room's appearance was completely different from any of the previous times they had used it. It was completely bare save for one table up against the back wall with three small glass beakers sitting on top.

As Harry was uncovering himself from his invisibility cloak, Hermione walked over to the table and placed a silver canister on it that she had been keeping hidden beneath her robes.

She unscrewed the cap and began pouring equal amounts into all three-glass beakers, saying, "there's still one final ingredient we have to add."

Harry frowned at this. "Hermione, blood is generally reserved for potions that are unstable to begin with – "

"Harry, we've been over this," she said with a hint of irritation. "Without our blood it won't work. Your mother had to have her blood spilled to protect you, and we have to do the same. Blood is life and that's why it's the most essential part of this spell. It's what will bind our life forces together." When she finished distributing the potion, she looked at the both of them and said, "if either one of you is having second thoughts we shouldn't do this. Remember, the intent has to be pure. You have to be willing to give up a part of yourself, a completely selfless act in order to save another's life. It's not something you can fake either. If the intent is not true the spell won't work."

Harry and Ron gave each other a quick glance before turning their attention back to Hermione. The look they shared conveyed everything that needed to be said without words. Though they both were well aware of all the potential consequences, they were just as equally aware of what Hermione had been telling them since the beginning. This could very well save one or all of their lives one day.

They walked over to the table and Hermione handed them each a beaker filled with the opaque coloured liquid. Harry went first. He pulled out a small pocket knife and made a small cut on the palm of his hand. Grimacing slightly, he squeezed his hand into a fist and held it over each beaker. After several droplets of blood fell in to each one, he removed his hand. Ron and Hermione then did exactly as he had just done.

Wordlessly, each one of them picked up a beaker and brought it to their lips.

The second the substance came into contact with his tongue, Ron's gag reflexes kicked in and he almost spit it back out. It was ten times more disgusting than the Polyjuice potion. He gulped it down in a hurry before setting down the empty beaker back on the table, knowing he would be brushing his teeth for a week and still not be able to get rid of that putrid aftertaste. He looked over at Harry, who had finished his as well and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked as disgusted as Ron felt. Hermione wasn't fairing much better.

She wrinkled her nose. "Well, that was a lot worse then I was expecting."

Harry and Ron looked at her in alarm. "It's not supposed to taste like that?" Harry asked before Ron could.

"Well… I don't exactly know what it's supposed to taste like," she told them. "But I had assumed that a potion that was supposed to link a person's life force to another would be a bit more pleasant."

"I don't feel any different," Ron said to them.

"You shouldn't," said Hermione. "It needs time to work into your body and even after that you shouldn't feel anything unless you need to use it. We're only joined together if we have to actually heal someone."

After that comment, Harry and Ron joined her in packing everything up in silence, not one of them knowing what to say after what they had just done.

They headed back to Gryffindor Tower shortly after. If they waited any longer it would begin to look suspicious if someone caught Ron and Hermione doing their rounds through the school this late at night. But given that Hermione was leaving Hogwarts tomorrow, maybe no one would care that they were out this late. They had been careful though, and since they had made sure everyone had gone up to bed before they had left, the common room was empty when they walked in.

"I think I'm going to head up to bed," Harry said to them both. He figured with this being Hermione's last night they would want some time alone, but he didn't actually want to have to come out and say that.

Hermione seemed to appreciate what he was doing because she flashed him a quick smile and gave him a hug. She didn't say anything as she let go. He said a quick good night to Ron before retreating up the stairs.

Hermione turned back to Ron who was standing there with his arms folded across his chest. He was giving her a look that she had come to know all too well during their fourth year. "Don't tell me you're jealous I gave my other best friend a hug?"

"Should I be?" He said, barely resisting the urge to snap back. He didn't want to fight with her about Harry or anything else for that matter. "Not like it matters," he muttered as an afterthought.

"What doesn't matter?" She said to him. "Ron?" She prodded when he remained silent.

He blew out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He hadn't planned on saying anything because he didn't want to sound like a selfish prat, but now that she knew there was something bothering him, she wasn't likely to stop pestering him until he gave her an answer. "None of this matters because tomorrow you'll be gone and I'll be stuck here. I know that's a really selfish thing to say because of everything you're having to give up, but that's how I feel." He couldn't even look at her at that point. He had always had a knack for being an insensitive git around her, but this really took the cake. So he wouldn't have to avoid looking at her, he moved around so he was sitting on the couch facing the fire. After a few moments Hermione came around to sit beside him. After several failed attempts to get him to look at her, she cupped his cheek with her hand to get him to turn his head.

"I'm not mad because you feel that way," she said in a convincing tone.

"Well you should," he said more harshly then he would have liked. "I should be supportive and comforting you, but all I can think about is myself – as usual. God, I must be the world's most terrible boyfriend," he said ashamed.

"You can't really believe that," she said instantly. "I never would have made it through what happened with my parents – with my mum, if it hadn't been for you. You are the last person who should be calling himself selfish." She let her forehead come to a rest against his. "It's going to be all right."

"I'm supposed to say that," he said, a hint of humour creeping into his voice. He moved so she could sit leaned up against him. He wrapped his arms around her saying, "you know I'm going to fall behind in all my schoolwork without you here nagging me to do it."

"You must be feeling better because you're teasing me again," she said, though there was no reprimand in her voice. She gave him a playful elbow in the ribs and he laughed lightly.

They were soon talking about everything and nothing at all, watching the remaining embers in the fire disappear. The fact that morning would come all too soon weighing heavily on both their minds.

Morning did indeed come too soon. The sun was already starting to rise when it had felt like it had only just set a few hours earlier. While Hermione had been packing up the last of her things, Lavender and Parvati had dropped in to say good bye and to give her an un-edited copy of their Gryffin Life documentary. They even managed to get Harry on it to say a few things. Hermione, who had never really been close with either one of them, suddenly wished she hadn't been so quick to peg them as the social sisters, and had gotten to know them a bit better.

Despite her loud protests, the house elves had carried her things out to the waiting carriage for her. Professor Lupin was going to accompany her back to the train station. He was going to catch the train back with her and once she was safe with her father, would apparate back to Hogsmeade.

She kept glancing up the stairs that led to the boys' dormitory even few seconds, even when she knew it was a hopeless attempt and it was better this way.

"I'm sure he's coming," Harry said softly from where he stood beside her. "I can go see what's keeping him."

"No, that's all right," she told him. "We said our goodbyes earlier. We both thought it would be easier that way." As she said the words she was hoping Ron had changed his mind and would want to see her one last time, but it didn't look that way. She really wanted to be mad at him for it but couldn't. This was hard on him too, and that's why they had decided it would be easier on the both of them to say their good byes before then.

Resisting the temptation to look upstairs one last time, she turned and made for the portrait hole, Harry following closely behind her.

The walk down to the main hall had been a silent one. Harry had wracked his brain for something to say, but came up empty every time. He was just starting to get used to the idea of Sirius not being around anymore, and now he was losing one of his best friends as well.

Lupin was waiting by the carriage drawn by the skeletal winged creatures that were no longer invisible to Hermione. Their former professor didn't come over right away, giving them a moment alone.

She turned so she was facing Harry. He was giving her a brave smile and that was when the first of her tears started to fall. Reality was finally coming into effect for Hermione. She was leaving the only life she knew and all the people she cared about.

"Be careful," he said, pulling her into a hug.

"I thought I was supposed to say that to you," she said, looking up and giving her a small smile.

He broke the embrace first. He didn't know what to say to tell her how much their six years of friendship meant to him. He had never been good with sharing his feelings.

She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Harry."

"You'll be back," he told her with confidence. In his mind there was no way one of the brightest witches in Hogwarts history could be kept away from there forever.

She took one last look at the castle, the landscape, Hagrid's hut, even the Forbidden Forest – all the things she had come to know and love before walking towards the waiting carriage.

She reached Lupin and was just going to get inside when she heard someone frantically shouting her name. Ron was running across the grounds at full speed. When he reached her he was completely out of breath.

"Don't be mad," he panted. "I know we said good bye last night, but I just, well – " he looked over at Lupin and thought _the hell with it_, before bringing his lips down to meet hers for one final kiss.

When they broke apart, he thumbed away her tears saying, "we'll figure this out."

She nodded. "I love you," she breathed when she finally pulled away from him.

"I love you too," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Hermione forced her body to turn and walk in the carriage and not look back at him.

Lupin climbed inside and moments later the carriage started moving, while Harry and Ron stood there watching it ride away.


	19. Revelations

CHAPTER NINETEEN: Revelations

Six Dead in Alley Confrontation

Early yesterday evening, a group of wizards heading home from their jobs at the Ministry we're cornered in an alleyway by what sources are reporting eight Death Eaters. The victims managed to hold them off for a short time, but were eventually overpowered by You-Know-Who's loyal followers before Aurors could arrive at the scene.

Once again, Corneilus Fudge – who looks closer and closer to being removed from his position if recent polls are any indication – is taking the heat for the attack. Sources close to the Daily Prophet are saying that the Auror numbers have taken a huge dive in the last two years and that when the time comes for a full-scale attack by You-Know-Who, there may not be much of a chance of stopping him. Of course, Mr. Fudge has tried denying this, but who can really believe a word that comes out of his mouth these days?

One of the victims, Bryan Vanderwal, was the Director on the Committee of Experimental Charms, which is actually expanding its operations –

"Snape's coming around, you better put that away," Ron's voice broke into Harry's thoughts.

Seeing Snape was indeed just a few rows away, Harry hastily folded up the article he had ripped out that morning's paper and opened up his previous night's homework.

"I thought you stopped reading the _Prophet_," Ron said to him.

"I did," Harry responded, seeing that Snape was now checking the homework from the row in front of him. "Neville was reading it this morning and I asked him if I could have this."

"What for?"

"Ron, six wizards died," he said, growing annoyed. "I don't know if it's a coincidence or not, but they all worked for the Ministry. And someone has also leaked to the _Prophet_ that the Auror numbers are dwindling – with that kind of knowledge Voldemort could plan an attack right now and we wouldn't stand a chance."

Ron shrugged. He didn't even cringe when Harry said Voldemort's name. "You haven't cared about anything to do with You-Know-Who all year, what's so different now?"

For once in his life Harry was actually thankful Snape was now at his desk to check his homework. Ron had been in awful mood since Hermione's departure almost three weeks earlier, and even though Harry sympathized with him very much, his patience was wearing thin.

"Sub par work as usual, Weasley," Snape said with a note of disgust, picking up Ron's paper. He gave Harry a nasty look as he picked up his. "I hope this essay proves to be something resembling a NEWT level, Potter, otherwise I would recommend finding a class that is easier for you to comprehend."

Harry's jaw was clenched as he matched Snape's stare, but he kept his mouth shut as he always did. Letting Snape goad him into an argument had only got him extra homework and detentions in the past. What he really wanted to do was go to Dumbledore and tell him how much of a bastard Snape was being. If Snape kept marking him the way he did, he wasn't going to have a chance in hell of getting into the seventh year advanced NEWT potions class. But Harry couldn't go to Dumbledore because he didn't want him to do him any favours. He didn't want to be indebted to the Headmaster.

Harry spent the rest of the lesson picturing horrific deaths for the Potions Master while he copied down the theory behind a series of comatose-like potions they would be making in the next class.

Ron joined him in being one of the first students out of the class when the period ended. Snape had them pick up their essays from the previous week on their way out.

Harry stared at the grade on the top of it before crushing the paper in his hands. "I'm practically going to have to get perfect on the exam to be able to get into next year's potions. How'd you do?"

Ron held up his paper, which had almost as much red ink on it as Harry's had, but the grade at the top was different.

"At least you passed," Harry muttered with some resentment. It wasn't fair that Snape was marking him completely different from the rest of the class.

"Do you want to grab something to eat and then head down to the pitch?" Ron asked, changing the subject.

"I suppose so," Harry answered. Quidditch seemed to be the only thing that could get Ron in a good mood. His goalkeeping skills had improved tremendously because he had been practicing so hard. Working as Keeper seemed to be the only way for him to work out some of his frustrations. Harry wished he could be that successful with some of his own frustrations.

They passed a group of fifth years leaving Flitwick's charms class. Harry noticed Ginny was among them. He moved away from Ron saying, "I'll be right back." He didn't wait for Ron's answer as he cut a path through the hoards of students to reach her. She looked surprised to see him when he was standing in front of her. He supposed he shouldn't have been shocked by that, since they had spoken very little outside of Quidditch games and practices since the incident with the Slytherin Beater, Sara Summerfield.

"We've got practice at four," he told her.

"I know, Harry," she said. "Katie made the announcement last night at dinner."

"Er, right," he said, pushing the front of his glasses up in a nervous gesture that he hoped she didn't notice. "I just was making sure everyone's going to be there. It's going to be important," he said, trying to recover.

"I'll be there," she assured him and went to leave.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"No, Harry, I'm not," she answered honestly.

"But you were, weren't you?"

She nodded.

"But you're not anymore?"

"Right," she said, almost laughing now. "You're acting kind of weird."

"I guess I just wanted to make sure we're okay," he said to her. "I thought you were still upset about the suspension and some of the things I said."

"Well, I got over it," she informed him. "And next time, all you have to do is ask, instead of skirting around me worried I'm going to snap your head off," she said smiling and then walking off.

Harry rejoined Ron a moment later, who immediately said, "what was that all about?"

"I just wanted to make sure she knew about today's practice."

"Of course she knew, she was there when Katie told the rest of us."

Harry didn't say anything and started walking.

"Is there something going on with you two?" Ron asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Apparently one that you're avoiding answering," said Ron, giving his friend a suspicious look.

He couldn't tell whether or not Ron was trying to pick a fight with him, even though he found the question altogether ridiculous. "Of course there's nothing going on with me and Ginny."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he caught sight of someone standing behind Ron. It was Dean, and he didn't look happy at all.

"I guess I should be glad to hear that news," said Dean, giving him a deadly stare. "But considering what happened with you and Cho Chang, I'm not sure if I should believe it."

"Dean, there's – " Harry started, but the other Gryffindor was already taking off down the hall. He turned back to Ron, only to be greeted by the same look that had been present on Dean's face seconds before. "Ron, I swear, there's nothing going on."

Ron's features eventually softened as he began to realize Harry was telling the truth. "Dean knows that. He probably just had a bad day or whatever."

That still didn't make Harry feel much better, but at least Ron was on his side. He tried to take comfort in that thought as they headed down to the pitch. It was sure to be one long practice.

Quidditch practice went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as things could go when two of your players weren't speaking. Ginny and Dean had obviously had a row of sorts because she turned up at the pitch in a foul mood. When she wouldn't even look at him, it didn't take long for Harry figure out what had been the subject of the fight. He couldn't very well pull her aside and tell her his side of the story without arousing any suspicion from their surrounding teammates, and especially from Ron.

Katie called the practice two hours later when a light rain had started to fall. She called the Gryffindor team over and gave a brief run through of the improvements she had noted and some of the areas that still needed work. All in all, Harry felt they had a better than decent chance of beating Ravenclaw then they did the last time they had played them. They had lost the previous match by about fifty points. With Ginny being suspended and Madame Pomfrey not allowing Katie to play with the concussion she had suffered against the Slytherins, one Chaser had simply not been enough to beat a team of Ravenclaw's caliber. Harry had caught the Snitch, knowing that they would lose even if he did so, but also knowing he would be saving Gryffindor from a slaughter.

When Katie was done with her usual end of practice speech, Ron started back towards the school, leaving Harry with no choice but to follow him back instead of staying behind and talking to Ginny like he wanted to. Then again, if she was hacked off at him maybe it was a good idea he give her some space before trying to approach her.

He trudged back to the common room alongside Ron, wanting nothing more than to shower and then relax in front of the fire. But the last part would not be a wise idea with the mountain of homework awaiting him up in his room.

On his way to the boys' dormitory, he passed by Dean and Seamus. Quite expectedly he received a loathing look from Dean, but he had not been expecting one from Seamus as well. That was just what he needed – another member of his House pissed off at him. As soon as he was upstairs, he didn't dwell on it a moment longer. If he allowed himself to get caught up in all the times someone at Hogwarts had been upset or even afraid of him, then he would never get anything else done.

When he returned to the common room, having showered and retrieved his homework, he found a rather agitated Ron sitting alone at a table. He had his books open in front of him, but had only a few lines written on his parchment.

"What's up?" Harry asked him.

"Ginny's still not back," he said immediately.

"Still?" Harry said, trying to give the impression of not being overly concerned.

Ron wouldn't have let it last this long, except Ginny had been grilling him lately for being even more over protective than usual. She had even called him smothering at one point. _Just because you don't have Hermione to be overprotective of anymore, doesn't mean you get to be doubly protective of me_, she had said that to him a few days ago, so he had finally given in to her requests and backed off. At present, however, he was feeling like going right back outside and –

"I'll go get her," Harry's voice broke through his thoughts.

Ron stared at him for a moment, before saying, "no, I'll go."

"Look, she's angry with me, I'll go," Harry argued. He stood up as if that made to settle the matter.

Surprisingly, Ron didn't argue beyond that. Harry noticed the looks that Dean and Seamus were sending him as he left, but acted as if he didn't. They had no doubt overheard his conversation with Ron, but he could care less at the moment about what they thought of him.

When he got downstairs and opened the large wooden door to outside, he found it raining heavily now. As he started walking outside, he couldn't imagine what would possess Ginny to stay out in this. If the Aurors were still patrolling the grounds of the school like they had been all year, they should have brought her in. No one was supposed to be outside unsupervised. He wasn't even halfway to the pitch when his sweater and pants became completely soaked through his robes. Being caught in a rainstorm in February was not something to be enjoyed.

She was easy enough to spot. She was the lone figure running around the pitch. After calling out to her several times and receiving no response, which he didn't know if it was because of the howling rain or was just plain ignoring him, he took up a light jog and eventually caught up with her.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked her, having to raise his voice over the rain to be heard.

"Katie said we needed to work on endurance, so what does it look like I'm doing?" She shot back.

"I don't think she meant while it was pouring rain and freezing out so you could catch your death."

"No one said you had to stay," she said, not looking at him.

"Ginny, cut the bullshit," he said, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stop. "If you're mad at me then just say so. Aren't you the one who told me not to skirt around an issue?"

He thought that maybe she would continue pretending everything was fine, but then he saw something in her eyes change and she snapped.

"If you must know, then yes, I am mad at you! What else am I supposed to be when Dean comes up to me and starts accusing me of carrying on behind his back with you."

"Ginny, I tried to tell him there was nothing going on."

"You obviously didn't try hard enough, did you?" She shouted, causing him to take a step back. He had experienced the Weasley temper first hand from Ron plenty of times, but it was something else entirely to witness it in Ginny. "Or maybe you didn't want to."

It was Harry's turn to cut his temper loose. "You think that little of me?"

She was being unfair. She knew Harry was a better person then that. She also knew she couldn't keep speaking to him when she was this upset. She started to go, when he grabbed her wrist, not hard, but enough to keep her from breaking free of his grasp. His eyes sought hers, and she tried averting her gaze, but it was hard when he was staring at her in such a penetrating way. Realizing that he was still holding her wrist rather tightly, he let go. She could have left right then and for some reason she knew he wouldn't try to stop her – but she didn't move. And because of that, it marked the moment when things were forever changed between her and Harry.

"I really liked Dean, even after what happened in the summer," she said to Harry. "He made a real effort to try and make things up to me. I was never in love with him, but he made me happy. I thought I was over this whole silly crush thing with you. I was fine last year with Michael, but when Dean and I were apart for those months and you and I started talking more, I realized that maybe I wasn't completely over you. But it didn't matter, because I knew nothing could ever happen and when Dean wanted to get back together I said yes."

Harry pushed his soaked hair out of his eyes. He was unprepared to handle what she had shared with him. "You never said anything," he said his voice so low he wasn't sure she would be able to hear him with the rain pounding down around them.

"There was no point," she told him, having heard him clearly. "I already knew you wouldn't feel anything for me," she continued, unsure if it was him or herself she was trying to convince of that. "You've spent most of the year angry with yourself and everyone else. If anything had developed it would have been because I was convenient. I wouldn't have been Cho or Hermione but I would have done."

"No, Ginny, it wouldn't have been like that."

For some unknown reason his words seemed to make her angrier. "Do you hear what you're saying? First it's Cho, then Hermione, and now me. Well, you know what? I'm not interested in being Harry Potter's flavour of the month, so you can sod off and find some other tart to be it. I'm sure there's dozens of girls here who would want the job. You know what the sad part is, Harry? You don't even realize how screwed up you are. You don't know what you want. You're doing everything you can to numb the pain, but all it's doing is eating away at you."

"I know how fucked up I am! But just because I'm dealing with a lot of shit doesn't mean I can't see what's right in front of my face."

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Ginny wretched her eyes away from him and said, "I'm going in."

"I never asked Cho to break up with Michael," he started, when she turned to leave, "because I was never in love with her."

The implication of what he was saying was almost too much for her.

In one swift motion he had closed the gab between them. "I'm a mess and the last thing I should be doing is starting something so that person can end as screwed up as me. I don't want that."

Rain still pouring down around them, she asked, "what do you want?" By the way his eyes were raking over her she knew what he wanted without even having to hear his answer.

When his lips found hers, it no longer seemed to matter that it was raining hard down on them and they were frozen to the bone. She clung to his soaked through shirt, exploring his mouth with her own. He pulled her shirt free from her pants and his hands started working their way under it when she sharply pulled away from him.

He looked at her, fully expecting her to be angry with him, but not expecting the horrified look he saw there. He had crossed the line and she was going to hate him forever.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – " he cut himself off when he saw her staring at something passed his shoulder. When he turned to see what it was, he understood where the horrified expression on her face had come from.

There were at least a dozen Death Eaters closing in on them. Harry had no idea how they could have even got onto the school grounds without the Auror's noticing. What he did know was that he had to get Ginny out of there.

"Get out of here!" He shouted, pushing her away. Even as he was pulling out his wand, he knew she would never make it. The Death Eaters were forming a tight knit circle around them. Their only chance was to fight.

Ginny was just pulling out her wand as Harry shouted _Expelliarmus_ at the nearest Death Eater. It worked, but a spell hit him from behind just as it happened. He fell hard to his knees, but he wasn't completely stunned. He took out the three Death Eaters closing in on Ginny before another curse could hit him. When it did, there was a searing pain like his entire body was on fire. The sound of Ginny's screams filled his ears just before his head smacked against the muddy earth and he knew no more.

**Amt:** In regards to your questions about writing a Harry/Draco story, unfortunately I don't write slash so you won't see that pairing in any of my fics.


	20. Life Away From Home

CHAPTER TWENTY: Life Away From Home

The sunlight came down in bright beams that seemed to trail Hermione as she followed the now-familiar path back to her home. She used the word 'home' loosely. It was little more than a place where she kept her belongings and slept. No matter how seemingly beautiful and peaceful Luxembourg was, it would never be home for her. She would have easily traded the mild, sunny winter days for the cold, rainy ones of London.

For her father's benefit, she had tried to accept this new way of life. The one summer she had spent in France with her parents turned out to benefit her greatly, since French was one of the main spoken languages there. She had shown a positive attitude towards their living arrangements and had kept up the same studiousness at school as she had done at Hogwarts – for a while. After spending a month trying to adjust, she had come to the conclusion she would never belong in an isolated out of the way country. She couldn't hide away knowing she was safe when almost every other person she cared about could be in mortal danger at any given time.

Through researching what few magic books she had been secretly able to pack with her, she discovered there was a small wizarding township located on the outskirts of the main city. She would quite often skip her morning class to go to the small café there and check out that morning's copy of the paper. The café carried some of the more larger wizarding newspapers in Europe, the _Daily Prophet_ among them. More times than not it was trivial information, and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn't get a precise account of what was going on in England – that was until about a week ago. She had grabbed Friday's paper and splashed across the front cover was an article outlining a Death Eater attack on several Ministry of Magic officials. The Aurors were reporting there was no motive behind the attack and the investigation had halted there, much to the outcry of the general public that more was not being done. The simple reason for that was the decline in Aurors. They couldn't be spending their time searching for the motive of every attack that occurred when there were barely enough of them as it was. The dwindling Auror numbers had all but sealed Fudge's fate for being replaced. The _Prophet_ was reporting daily about the fear spreading across wizarding communities throughout Britain. People were panicking that there would not be enough Aurors should Voldemort decide to strike in larger numbers.

So many times she had been tempted to send an owl to Ron, even though she knew he was all right, and had even gone as far once as to write a whole letter before stopping just short of sending it. There was a very good chance the owl would be intercepted, but that wasn't her main concern. If Ron wrote back and she wasn't home, or worse yet if the neighbours began noticing owls showing up at her bedroom window during the day and spoke to her father about it, he would be furious. So she and Ron were stuck sending letters to each other the traditional muggle way. She had shown Ron how to do it during their last Hogsmeade visit. The post office there had a small section devoted to muggle methods of delivering post in case any Hogwarts students needed to send letters or packages to their muggle homes. She had carefully gone through the process with him, and if not for their circumstances he never would have paid that close attention to her explanations. The post was delivered straight to her house and her father assumed it was one of her friends from her old street that she still kept in touch with. Hermione had decided it would be best to have Ginny write on the envelope to avoid arousing any suspicions. So far it was working, but it was such a slow process she wondered how she had ever survived the muggle way growing up. She was so used to receiving mail the following day instead of a week or two later. But for the moment it was all they had.

Ron would talk about the Gryffindor Quidditch matches and what was happening at Hogwarts in his letters, and sometimes Harry or Ginny would write a few lines, but there was never any mention of You-Know-Who. She trusted him enough that if anything did happen he would write and tell her. It had been over two weeks and he had still not responded to her latest letter. She knew it was pointless to worry. If the post was coming all the way from Hogsmeade then there were bound to be times when there would be delays.

She couldn't remember the exact moment when she had fallen in love with Ron, but it seemed to be amplified that much more now that they were apart. They had never been apart for this long before, except for the summer between first and second year. Writing letters was fine, but it was nowhere near the same as seeing him, touching him…

She wondered if it was the same for him before quickly banishing the thought. She knew how Ron felt, and she was fairly confident that being apart for an unknown length of time wouldn't change that. But sometimes the little seeds of doubt would creep into her mind when she allowed them to. When they both had enough time apart would they realize they were better off friends? That it was perfectly natural for two people who had known each other for so long and been through so much, to develop certain non-platonic feelings, but should never have acted on them? She knew it was more anxiety about all the changes in her life than any serious doubts about her relationship with Ron, but it still would have been nice to have someone to talk to about them.

She was almost 'home' now, and would still have a few hours to herself before her father returned home from work. There was only one dentist in the area, so her father had rented office space in the same building and now had his own small but growing client list. The other dentist in the building had readily agreed to it because now he could take sick days and vacations without having to worry about sending his patients to the next city over.

She dropped her keys off on the small table by the front door and proceeded towards the kitchen. She planned on grabbing something to eat and then going through the next chapter in her Transfiguration book. Her plans didn't include finding her father sitting at the kitchen table waiting for her, with a pile of books stacked beside him. She didn't have to look too closely to realize they were her Hogwarts texts and several other magical books she had picked up over the years, including _Hogwarts, A History_.

"You went into my room and searched through my things?" She cried, outraged.

"I didn't have a choice," he said, raising his own voice. "The school called my office today and said you've been missing classes. They said all your marks are either borderline of failing. Where are you spending all your time?"

"Nowhere," she lied.

"Hermione," he began, his voice stern, "I moved us here to get us away from all that, and now I find out you're still carrying on with that magic nonsense _and _writing to those friends of yours."

Just knowing that he had looked at her letters from Ron were almost enough to make her lose her temper completely. That was more of a violation of her privacy than snooping in her room and finding her books. "You can't expect me to stop caring about them just because you made me leave," she argued.

"I made us leave because it wasn't safe," he responded to her argument. "But you've completely jeopardized that by writing to them. You have no idea who might be watching the post."

"I never wanted to leave!" she shouted, feeling the weeks of frustration and loneliness finally breaking through. "How can I worry about my own safety when there's people I care about who are in danger all the time. I can't stay here, don't you get that?"

Her father abruptly stood up from the table. "If your mother and I had just followed our original instincts you would never have gone to Hogwarts and she would still be alive!"

Once the words were out of his mouth, he looked truly sorry to have said them, but Hermione was already up in her room with the door slammed shut before he could utter an apology.

It wasn't until Hermione was sure her father had left the house before she dared to open her bedroom door. It was Saturday morning and she had kept herself shut up in her room since the previous afternoon. She knew it was only safe to leave now because her dad had gone into the office for the morning. He always saw patients in the mornings on Saturday's, and now that was working to her advantage. She didn't want to have to do this, but she couldn't live like this anymore. She could respect and even understand his reasons for bringing her here – he feared for her life. He had already lost his wife and she, her mother, but running away wouldn't change any of that or who she was.

She had tried to make him understand her world, but he didn't want any part of it, and now she was being forced to act. Hermione never thought she would reach the point where she would have to choose between her family and the wizarding world, but here she was, right at that very crossroad. She had been wrestling with the choice for weeks, and now it didn't seem as though she had any other option. She loved her dad, but she couldn't live in fear – _his­_ fear – for the rest of her life.

She filled her backpack and a duffle bag with her belongings, mostly clothes and some toiletries. She didn't know where her dad had put all her books, but they would have been too heavy to carry anyways.

She didn't think of what she was doing as running away. It was more like returning to the place where she belonged so she could make a difference, perhaps even save lives. That was the kind of thought that helped her stick to her resolve as she began the trip to the Luxembourg border.

I know this chapter was really short, but I promise the next one will be longer.


	21. One Back, One Still Missing

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: One Back, One Still Missing

If Bill and Tonks hadn't insisted on talking the longest route imaginable to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Ron could have been there by now. When his brother had showed up at Hogwarts, Ron had assumed he was bringing news about Harry. Since the kidnapping he had all but been kept in the dark about any information pertaining to his friend's whereabouts and what was being done to get him back. He had received stern instructions from his mother not to leave the school grounds and attempt some foolhardy rescue. The only reason he was staying put was because he had no idea where to look. If he knew where Harry was being kept, no one would have been able to stop him from going. He was thankful that at least Ginny had made it out of the attack relatively unscathed. She had some minor head trauma from a blow to her head that had rendered her unconscious, but that was the extent of her injuries. Ron felt a cold chill go down his spine whenever he thought about the reason his sister had been left behind. The Death Eaters had only been interested in Harry.

So when Bill had showed up, telling him Hermione was at Grimmauld Place, Ron demanded to see her, which had been his brother's intention all along. Tonks had showed up as well, and together the three of them made the journey back to Phoenix Headquarters. However, the trip was a painfully long one because of the simple fact that Ron was unable to apparate. They had to take several different port keys to ensure they weren't followed.

Ron's temper had reached the breaking point on several occasions, when his brother had avoided or flat out refused to answer his questions on how Hermione had ended up at Phoenix Headquarters in the first place.

Tonks was the first to reach the spot between house number eleven and thirteen. It took only a moment for a shabby-looking door to appear out of thin air. They walked up the worn steps and Tonks put her wand on the door and tapped once. After many metallic-clicking sounds the door finally creaked open. Ron had barely stepped foot inside before his mother was throwing her arms around him. "I'm glad you're safe. I've been so worried. You weren't followed, were you?" She asked, turning her attention to Tonks and her older son.

"No, mum, we were careful," Bill answered. "We did everything Mad-Eye told us to."

"Where is she?" Ron blurted out.

"Hermione's upstairs resting," his mother answered knowingly. "I put a sleeping draught in her tea. She looked absolutely worn out, the poor dear."

Ron immediately made for the stairs, but his mother tried to stop him. "It will be at least another few hours before she wakes up completely."

"I want to see her," he argued. "I don't even know how she got here – _he_ wouldn't tell me anything," he said, giving his brother a loathing look.

"I asked Bill not to," Mrs. Weasley said before Bill could say anything. "I thought it would be best if you got here first and then everything was explained to you."

"So explain." Ron folded his arms over his chest, waiting impatiently for her to continue.

"She only just arrived a few hours ago. She took the muggle way out of Luxembourg," she began. "She couldn't apparate, so she had to secure an out of country port key. Once she was back in England, she came here."

"She's all right, though? She didn't get attacked or anything?" He probably sounded paranoid, but after what happened with Harry he couldn't help it.

"Other then looking quite exhausted, she was fine."

"She was never in any real danger, Ron. There's been an Auror stationed in Luxembourg to follow her and make sure she was safe," Bill told him. "He followed her all the way back to London."

"Why the hell didn't he reveal who he was and help her get back here?" Ron rounded on his brother.

"Because he was under strict orders from Moody not to reveal who he was unless it was absolutely necessary," said Tonks.

"Use your brain, little brother. Do you think Hermione would have trusted him even if he told her who he was? She's way too smart to trust someone she doesn't know," said Bill.

"I still want to see her," Ron stated, leaving no room for argument in his voice.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go check on her," said his mother, her features softening. "But Ron if she is awake do not tell her about Harry. She needs one good night of rest. We'll tell her everything in the morning."

Ron had no intentions of telling her about Harry right away regardless. He knew how bad she was going to take the news and he didn't even have anything remotely comforting to tell her, like where he was or what they were doing to get him back. That was why he had been avoiding answering her most recent letter. He knew he would not be able to write to her without spilling everything about Harry and how helpless he felt because there wasn't a damn thing he could do. She would only have worried herself to death and he didn't want that. He didn't want to tell her anything until they had some real news. Bill had said on the way over that Mad-Eye was following a lead and would hopefully return with some much needed information. Ron hoped it wouldn't turn out to be another dead end like the last half dozen.

He climbed the stairs and made his way to the room she had stayed in during the summer and winter holidays. The door was closed and he opened it slowly, not wanting to make any noise. He trusted his mother but he needed to see for himself that she was all right. More then that, he just needed to see her.

"Ron?" He heard a soft voice call out.

He was kneeling beside her bed in an instant. "I'm here," he said, stroking her face with his hand. He couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be touching her again. Hermione was trying to sit up and he said, "maybe you should stay lying down." She stubbornly refused to follow his advice.

"I know your mum put something in my tea," she said, finally managing to sit up with his assistance.

"She meant well," he said in an effort to apologize for his mother.

"I know," she said, looking at him and not seeming angry at all. "I missed you so much," she said, reaching out to touch his face.

"I still can't believe you're here. What did your dad say?"

"He didn't know. I mean, he obviously knows by now."

He blinked in astonishment. "You ran away?"

"I didn't have a choice," she said, her tone serious. "I don't belong anywhere else but here and he'll never understand that, especially now that my mum's gone."

The mentioning of her mum made him think of Harry. He felt rather ashamed that he hadn't thought much of his best friend since he had learned of Hermione's arrival at Grimmauld Place. Who knew what he was being forced to endure and here he was enjoying a reunion with his girlfriend. Some bastard of a best friend he was.

Hermione picked up on the changed look in his eyes and the way his face fell slightly. "What's wrong?" She asked him gently.

"Mum's gonna kill me if she finds out I woke you," he lied quickly. He could tell she didn't believe him for a second, but was still tired enough that she didn't press the point. "I should let you get back to sleep."

As much as she wanted to stay awake and make up for lost time, the sleeping sedative Mrs. Weasley had slipped her wasn't going to allow for that. Reluctantly, she lied back down.

"I'll be right next door in my room if you need anything," was the last thing she heard him say before her eyes closed and she was fast asleep again.

It was well after midnight, when Ron, after mindless hours of tossing and turning, gave up on sleep altogether and left his room. He thought about going to Hermione's room and just sitting by her bed, but he didn't want to chance waking her up. He could see there was still a light on downstairs so there had to be someone still up. When he reached the stairs he was able to hear voices coming from the dining room. He took a few steps down and was able to make out the voice currently speaking as Mad-Eye Moody. He went down a few more steps to hear what was being said.

"The place was in bits when we got there. Been like that for some time. I'd stake my years as an Auror to say that Potter was never there. It was a Death Eater holding place at one time, there's no question about that, but it's long since been abandoned."

"What about the other two places?" The new voice sounded like Lupin's.

"It was getting too close to sunrise to check them out properly, but they're worth going back to. There's only so many places in England they can hold him."

"That's assuming he's still in England," said Bill.

"He's here," Moody said gruffly. "They wouldn't take a chance moving him out of country because they know we'd have all the port key custom stations on twenty-four hour watch, and I've got Mundungus keeping an eye on all the illegal ones. There's also the fact that Potter can't apparate so that eliminates apparation customs."

"Ron? What are you doing up?" His mother asked, from where she had just left the kitchen.

She had to have known he was listening to every word. "I couldn't sleep. Did you find Harry?" He asked quickly. He wasn't going to let her shoo him away this time.

"Molly, he's already heard this much, no harm in letting him hear the rest. Potter is his best mate after all."

His mother didn't look like she agreed, but she didn't try to stop him when he walked down the remainder of the stairs and joined the others in the dining room. His father, Tonks, Lupin, Bill, and Moody were all present.

"What did you find out?" Ron asked.

"Well we know where Potter isn't," Moody told him. "We've ruled out all but a few possible locations. In another day or two we'll know where he is. No demands have been made either, so we can only assume that to mean they have no intention of trading his freedom for something else. They've caught Harry for their Dark Lord, plain and simple."

Ron's mother looked horrified at the mere mention of it, and Ron felt himself growing angry. "I never should have let him go after Ginny alone. It was getting dark out – "

"It's not your fault, boy," Moody cut in. "You would have likely ended up in the same position as your sister, or worse."

That didn't do much to alleviate the guilt he was feeling. "Why is it taking so long to find him?"

"You-Know-Who has wanted Harry for too long, Ron," said his father. "His followers are not going to be careless and hold him in some random place."

"So where are these last two places you need to check?" He saw everyone look anywhere but directly at him. "I want to know," he demanded. Harry was his best friend and he was dammed if he was going to continue letting them keep him in the dark.

"I want to know too."

Ron spun around and saw Hermione standing there with her dressing gown on. He had heard the calmness in which she had spoke but he could see the fire behind her eyes.

"I think it would be a good idea for the both of you to go back upstairs. When we know more we'll tell you," Mrs. Weasley said to the both of them.

Hermione seemed to forget everyone else was standing there, focusing solely on Ron. "How could you not tell me Harry was missing?"

She sounded hurt and furious and Ron knew there was going to be no easy escape for him. "I was going to tell you everything in the morning, I swear. You needed to rest."

"I guess I should thank you for allowing me to get a few needed hours of rest while Harry's out there somewhere probably being tortured!"

Everyone in the room seemed to flinch at her words, and Mrs. Black's portrait began wailing loudly with all the commotion.

While Lupin and Mrs. Weasley left to try and stop it, Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the stairs.

"Hermione, hold on," Ron called after

She didn't slow down. She got to her room and slammed the door shut behind her, destroying Mrs. Weasley and Lupins attempts to calm Mrs. Black's unrelenting screams.

Her door was only shut for a few seconds before Ron threw it open and came storming in. He made sure to close it behind him. She was too furious at what had just happened to berate him for barging into her room.

"I can't believe you of all people would pull the 'good night sleep' rubbish on me," she rounded on him.

"What the hell was I supposed to tell you? He's been kidnapped by Death Eaters but we don't know where he is let alone how to plan a rescue?"

"That would have been a good start," she snapped. "How long has he been missing?"

His next answer was only going to earn him another round of yelling. "A week."

"A week!" She cried. "He's been gone that long and no one has done anything?"

"Moody has all the Aurors that can be spared working on it twenty-four hours a day. They – "

"That's not good enough. Do you have any idea what they could have done to him in that amount of time?"

"Fuck, Hermione, he's my best friend too!" He yelled at her. "You think I don't feel like shit, sitting around, doing nothing?" Without warning, he vented his frustrations on the wall nearest him by pounding his fist against it.

It was not a smart move. He had succeeded in leaving a noticeable dent in the wall, but his knuckles were bleeding and his whole right hand was shaking with pain.

Hermione quickly moved into action. She rummaged around in her bag, pulled something out and handed it to him. "Here, wrap this around it."

"That's your shirt. I'm not ruining – "

"It's old, it doesn't matter," she said dismissively. She took it and helped him wrap it around his hand. "That should help stop the bleeding." She left his side and started rummaging around her bag again. This time she removed a small box. She motioned for him to come over and sit on her bed, while she removed a single glass jar filled with a purplish coloured paste.

"What is that?" He asked.

"It's a type of antibiotic," she explained. "It will help clean the wound from infection and clot the blood vessels to stop the bleeding. It should keep the swelling down too." She carefully unwrapped the shirt from his hand. She winced when she looked at his knuckles. Flecks of skin were ripped off and they were still bleeding, though not as heavily as before, but signs of bruising and swelling were already starting to show.

"It's not that bad. It doesn't even really hurt," he said, trying to ease her concerns.

She arched an eyebrow at him in disagreement, but didn't say anything.

He sucked in a breath of air when the ointment first touched one of his cuts.

She immediately pulled her hand away, the concern showing in her eyes. "Does that sting?"

"No, it's fine," he said through clenched teeth.

She continued to apply the ointment, but gentler now.

"Sorry, about your wall," he said, flashing her a sheepish grin.

"I never really liked the colour of these walls anyways," she admitted, continuing her treatment of his hand.

There was a long silence that followed, until Ron had the courage to voice the one thing, or rather the one person that was weighing heavily on both their minds.

"We'll get him back," he said, his voice low. "You know how Harry has this knack for making it through impossible odds."

She nodded, but didn't speak, not wanting her voice to betray her fears. They could talk all they wanted about Harry being all right, but the fact remained he was still out there. And all the wishing in the world wasn't going to bring him home safe.

She felt Ron's uninjured hand seek out hers and clasp it tightly. There was little else they could do at the moment except wait – and pray.


	22. Playing The Hero

A/N: I think this may be the longest chapter I've ever written. The next one will be almost the same length, so enjoy!

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Playing The Hero

Time had lost all meaning for Harry. Whether days or weeks had passed he didn't know. He didn't even have the luxury of knowing what time of day it was, not that it would have done him any good to know. His captors would come to visit him three times a day. In the beginning, at least one of those visits would have been spent throwing the Cruciatus at him for hours. They would ask him questions during those sessions, but he would shut them out just as he was trying to do with the pain. Over time, he didn't know if it was because he had just gotten used to it or he had actually succeeded in blocking it out, but whenever they used it on him now he was only dimly aware of the searing pain ripping through his body and mind. He didn't even cry out most times anymore.

The cell he was kept in was just that – a cell. Rusted bars made up the frame and his arms were shackled behind him. On one of his first days, a Death Eater he knew the voice of all too well had explained why he wasn't being held in place by magical means. _Magical binds tend to weaken after a while, and since we don't know how long you're going to be staying here, I thought it best to be extra cautious_, Lucius Malfoy had said with a malicious grin.

With nothing to occupy his time in between the visits from the Death Eaters, he had thoroughly observed his surroundings, trying to figure out where they were holding him. With what little strength he had, he surmised it was probably a very old building, maybe even a house, judging by the spiraling set of stairs leading upstairs. If it was a house, he was definitely being held in the part that had been used as a torture chamber at one time. More shackles and chains hung loosely from the ceiling. The air was stale and stank of mildew. He was anything but warm being slumped against a concrete floor.

He heard a door creek open and a set of heavy boots descend the stairs. He had already had his three visits for the day, so he wasn't sure what to expect from this one.

Lucius Malfoy stared directly inside his cell, saying, "how are you feeling today, Potter? I do hope Bellatrix wasn't too tough on you during your last session."

From his knees, Harry stared back at him, but said nothing.

"I have a feeling she wasn't since you seem to have an abnormally high tolerance for pain. I would ask if it's something Dumbledore has been working on with you, but we both know you won't answer that."

Still Harry said nothing. He never answered their questions. In the beginning, he feared that he had given something up and not remembered because he would black out after his _sessions_. But they kept coming back and asking him the same questions, which told Harry he had revealed nothing so far.

"Since you seem to have no difficulty with your own pain, I think it's time we try something new," Malfoy went on. "How long do you think you can watch an innocent being tortured?"

Again, Harry stayed quiet, not wanting to play into his hand.

"What about your friends?"

Something in Harry's eyes blazed but he forced himself to remain calm. Malfoy was bluffing.

"I see I've finally got your attention," Malfoy noted with satisfaction.

"I know you're lying," Harry finally spoke, his voice ringing with confidence. "You don't have them. If you did, you would have brought them here already."

"I know you've instilled some of that obnoxious hero complex of yours in Weasley and the Mudblood. They won't stay away."

"It's going to be a long wait," said Harry, giving a bitter laugh, "because my friends aren't coming for me."

"We'll see which one of us is lying." Those were Malfoy's last words before he left.

Harry could see right through his bluff. Hermione was safe in Luxembourg and he knew there was no way Dumbledore or anyone else would allow Ron to leave the safety of Hogwarts. Even if Moody or someone managed to find him, at least his friends would be safe. For once he would be able to keep them out of danger instead of plunging them head first into it.

Ron awoke much earlier then he would have liked after a fitful night of tossing and turning. The antibiotic cream Hermione had put on his knuckles last night was finally started to wear off, causing his hand to throb again.

It came as no surprise when he walked downstairs and found Hermione already in the kitchen, grabbing a slice of toast from a stack the middle of the table and spreading marmalade across it.

"Morning,' his mother greeted him as he joined Hermione at the table. "What would you like for breakfast, dear?"

He opened his mouth but a strangled cry from his mother cut off his reply.

"What happened to your hand?" She began to inspect the hand he had smashed against Hermione's bedroom wall in a motherly way that was rather embarrassing, made even more so by the person who was sitting across from him. Hermione was doing her very best not to laugh and failing rather miserably.

"Mum, I'm fine," he insisted, trying to wretch his hand free from her grasp.

"How did this happen?" She asked again.

He thought quickly for a plausible excuse. "It was that bloody over-sized dresser in my room. I didn't have the light on and I banged my fist right into it."

Mrs. Weasley wasn't thick by any means. She had raised seven children and had developed a knack for knowing when one of them was lying.

"You should let me do a healing charm on that," she said to him.

Ron finally managed to wretch his hand free from her careful inspection. "It's fine. Hermione put something on it last night."

Hermione's smile vanished, now that she had been dragged into this and Mrs. Weasley was staring at her expectantly.

"It was just something to help bring the swelling down," she explained. She didn't see the need to talk about using it to stop the bleeding.

Though she was still not convinced that her son had told her he truth about her injury, she let it go for the time being, knowing he wasn't going to tell her how it really happened.

When she want back to cooking and her back was to them, Hermione kicked Ron under the table for bringing her in as some sort of accomplice. She wasn't really angry but she did it nonetheless. Ron just sent a smirk her way and moved his legs where she wouldn't be able to reach him again.

"Where is everyone?" He asked his mother.

"Your father's at work, and I'm not sure where everyone else is," Mrs. Weasley responded.

Just as Mrs. Weasley had developed a sense for telling when her children were lying, her children had learned that same trait in regards to their parents.

"Mum, where's Moody?"

"I just told you I don't know where he is," she answered in a voice that suggested he drop the line of questioning. She turned her attention to Hermione and said, "Dumbledore has spoken with your father, and he's agreed to let you stay here for the time being."

Hermione nodded her head but didn't say anything. Happy as she was that her father was allowing her to remain in Britain, it was quite likely he hadn't come to that decision on his own. Dumbledore probably had to intervene on her behalf so she could be allowed to stay at Grimmauld Place.

"Mum, what aren't you telling us?" Ron pressed. He knew there was something important she was hiding from them both.

He prepared himself for another round of yelling with his mother, and it looked every bit like that was going to happen, until she finally spoke. "They went after Harry."

Ron's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "What? When?"

"Just after dawn," she began. "It would be nightfall by the time they reach – "

"Reach _where_?" Ron pressed after Mrs. Weasley purposely cut herself off.

"That's not important, Ron. What matters is that they're going to get Harry back."

It was important to him. They had purposely kept him and Hermione out of the loop last night because they had been planning a rescue. "Why the hell didn't they tell us last night?"

"There wasn't any need for you to know."

"Right, because Harry's just some bloke off the street who we really don't care about," Ron said sarcastically.

"It was for your own good," his mother said in a stern voice.

Ron was looking for Hermione to say something and she finally did. Though he nearly fell off her chair after hearing her speak.

"Ron, your mum's right. Telling us wouldn't have made a difference."

He couldn't believe she wasn't backing him up on this, especially after how furious she had been with him when she had found it he was keeping Harry's capture from her. Fuming, he rose from his chair and left the kitchen. He ignored his mother calling after him.

He was in his room with the door shut for several minutes before he heard a knock and Hermione let herself in.

"How can you not be angry?" He shouted. "They purposely avoided telling us anything so we wouldn't try to help. After the way you acted last night–"

"Of course I'm angry," she interrupted, "but I thought it was best not to show it, so your mum won't suspect anything."

"She – what?" Ron was confused.

"If she thinks we're angry and upset, she'll keep a closer eye on us then if we were to take the news calmly and rationally."

"What are you on about?"

"We're going after Harry, of course," she informed him calmly. "I had a look at Moody's notes last night when we were down there and I think they're going to the wrong place."

"How do you know?"

"Because they're not going to hold Harry in some random place. He's too important to Voldemort. They'll be holding him in a safe house heavily protected by magic like Phoenix Headquarters."

"If it's anything like here Moody and the others may never find it. A hidden place would be next to impossible to find."

"Not if you know what you're looking for," she told him. "When I couldn't go back to sleep last night, I went down to the drawing room. I was staring at the Black family tapestry and it occurred to me that if the Black family could have a secret house like this, then probably some of the other pureblood families that supported Voldemort back then would have one too. They would have to if they wanted to meet in secret without anyone finding them. What is one of the few pureblood wizarding families left besides yours?"

"The Malfoy's," Ron spat, the words rolling off his tongue like venom.

Hermione nodded. "Since we know for a fact Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, and is probably pretty high up in the ranks, we can safely assume he would play a part in holding Harry. Harry won't be at the Malfoy manor," she said, knowing where his thoughts were going. "It would be too obvious. Do you remember Malfoy bragging last year about what his grandfather used to do to muggles?"

He nodded, just wishing she would hurry up and get to where they were keeping Harry already. "His grandfather had this mansion in Leeds, but there was a fire in it years ago. There's not much left of it."

"What if it's just an illusion? I'm surprised Moody didn't come to the same conclusion because I saw him crossing it off a list he had."

"Blimey…" Ron trailed off shaking his head. "That's only a few hours from here."

"I think it's our best shot," she said to him. "If we leave tonight we have a better chance of escaping Grimmauld Place unnoticed. It should buy us enough time to get there before your mum realizes we're gone. Plus we need something that we won't be able to get before this evening."

"What's that?"

"A port key," she said simply.

Ron knew better than to ask how she thought they were going to get their hands on a port key, knowing the answer would probably be a long winded explanation originating from a large, dusty book.

Without even having to ask the other they both knew they were going to do this. They were going to get Harry back.

Hermione had gotten quite good at hiding things from her father. That was what helped her and Ron plan their escape from Grimmauld Place and map out a plan for rescuing Harry, all under the watchful eye of Mrs. Weasley.

They had to wait until almost one in the morning to be sure Ron's parents were asleep before springing in to action. They wanted to minimize the amount of the things they were to bring with them, packing only the necessities that would aid them in their rescue. In a single backpack they carried specific potions, along with a few other aids that might come in handy. They each had their wands, but even that might not be enough to defend themselves with depending on what they would find at the supposedly burned down Malfoy home.

Ron had cast a silencing charm on the front door, so that as each of the bolts and locks opened themselves the noises made would not travel upstairs. Once out on the front steps, they made sure the door to Phoenix Headquarters had locked and concealed itself before turning and walking across the lawn of house number thirteen.

Most of the wizarding places that had floo systems installed in them were closed at this late hour, and those that weren't were the kind of places they were looking to avoid. Their age alone would draw too much attention and they couldn't be certain that there were not any of Voldemort's followers at these establishments. That was why she felt a port key would be the safest and fastest route by which to travel. The only difficult part was finding one that wasn't traceable or being watched by the Ministry. That left them with one option – use an illegal one, and Hermione knew there was one person who could get them one without drawing attention to himself.

Mundungus Fletcher was always up to his neck in petty wizard crimes or illegal activities that drove Mrs. Weasley absolutely mad. Hermione had cornered him in the parlor telling him she and Ron needed a port key to take them to Leeds. She tried to give him coordinates as specific as she dared without drawing his suspicions. She had explained her concocted story of how she and Ron were looking to get their minds off Moody and the Order's rescue of Harry. Though Mundungus probably had a dozen or more at his disposal, he hadn't been in a hurry to hand one over. He had known Molly Weasley would find a way to chuck him out of the Order once and for all if he gave Hermione and Ron an illegal transportation device. But Hermione was not a girl without a plan. She had been expecting resistance and eventually managed to blackmail Mundungus into giving her one. She told him she knew he had been breeding illegal creatures but wasn't going to blow the whistle on him if he gave her what she wanted. She had been bluffing the entire time, but having known Mundungus well enough from all her time spent at Grimmauld Place over the last two summers, knew that breeding illegal creatures wasn't beyond him.

He had come by after dinner with very specific instructions on where to find the port key. It would be waiting for them in a park ten minute's away from Grimmauld Place. It was supposed to be a dirty baseball cap buried underneath the sand in front of the swing closest to the park bench.

She and Ron did not talk much as they kept up a brisk pace towards the park. Doubts had already begun to set in her mind about what they were doing. Who were they to think they could break in to some heavily guarded fortress and just get Harry back? Hermione wanted to know when she had become so impulsive that she was acting without fully thinking things through. The truth was, she could no longer sit around and wonder what was happening to Harry, and she knew Ron couldn't either. It was even worse for him because he had known about it longer. True, they could have waited for Moody and the others to return and told them what they had learned, but that could be another day or more and she couldn't stand the thought of forcing Harry to wait a little longer when they could go and get him out themselves.

They arrived at the park and immediately headed for the swing farthest away from their position. Hermione knelt down in front of it and began scooping away sand, eventually uncovering a sodden blue baseball cap.

"Last chance to get out of this," she said, looking back at Ron.

"Like hell I'm leaving Harry with those bastards another second," he said to her.

They grabbed the cap at the same instant and were sent tumbling forward, spinning wildly.

When everything around them finally came back into force, Hermione didn't know how far they had traveled but they were nowhere near the park anymore. If Mundungus had programmed the port key with the directions she had given him they should have been no more than a mile away from the old Malfoy Mansion.

The forest they were in acted as a form of camouflage to keep them hidden from anyone who might be watching. Ron and Hermione used the thick growth of trees and other foliage to hide themselves as they moved in closer. When they reached the edge of the clearing, they took cover behind a fallen tree trunk that looked to have toppled over by lightning.

Ron took the pack off his back and pulled out a pair of Omnioculars that he used to scan the area in front of the mansion.

"Not a Death Eater in sight," he said, keeping his voice low. What remained of the mansion looked extremely unsteady. The area around it was charred and burned. A couple of pillars remained untouched, but the fire had blazed through most of the house before it had been put it. It looked as though all a person had to do was glance at it the wrong way and it would come crashing down. "Can you tell if there's a spell being cast around it?"

"No," she answered. "We need to be a lot closer."

Ron put the Omnioculars away and pulled something else out from their back. It was a long, almost transparent cloak. From the summer, they knew Moody kept his spare invisibility cloak hidden away at Phoenix Headquarters. They had seen him putting it away in the drawing room once. After much searching, they had finally discovered a hidden compartment at the back of the desk where it was kept. The cloak was really only meant for one grown person, but if they took their time and walked slow, and Ron stooped a little because of his height, it would get the job done. It was the only way to be sure they would get across the great stretch of land without being noticed by some unseen watcher.

The grass was wet from an earlier rainfall, so that by the time they reached the burnt wreckage, their shoes were soaked and caked with mud. They would have to risk removing the cloak now in order to find if a spell was being cast around it. Hermione pulled out a glass jar from the pack, unscrewed the top and threw the liquid contents onto the wreckage.

"_Aperio_," she whispered. It wouldn't break the spell, but it would reveal if what they were looking at wasn't real. The air in front of them rippled visibly and then disappeared.

"Some sort of barrier has been cast on it," she said, her heartbeat increasing.

"Can you bring it down?" Ron asked her.

"No," she admitted. "But I can cast a spell to find us a doorway in."

She pulled out a couple of ingredient jars and test tubes, and began mixing. When she was done, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the powdered substance in front of her. She said the incantation, "_Foris_," and the powder rose out of the jar and started mixing with the air. It thinned out to the point where it looked like strips of energy whirling around the wreckage in front of them. It swirled frantically in a lone spot and then combusted into tiny particles that vanished before they hit the ground. In it's wake it left a large shabby wooden door, the wood stained and splintered. It was their doorway.

Hermione looked over at Ron. He had his wand out now too. They shared a quick look before he reached for the handle.

"Be careful," she warned. "There could be a recognition spell on it. If the wrong person touches it – "

Ron gripped the handle and turned it. When he didn't feel anything happening he slowly pushed the door open. Pitch-blackness awaited them beyond it.

"_Lumos_," Ron muttered, and the tip of his wand lit up, casting a yellow glow into the darkness. Someone might notice the light, but he was not walking in there completely blind. He stepped inside, knowing Hermione would be right behind him.

The door clicked closed behind them, and Ron suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

Without warning, overhead torches came to life, illuminating the room completely. They were in a narrow hallway, where the ceiling and walls were cracked and the air that filled their nostrils was quite stale.

Footsteps could be heard – and they were fast approaching. There was only one way they could be coming from because the other way was a dead end.

Hermione tried the door handle, knowing that if they could get outside and find cover they would stand a better chance of defeating whoever was coming. Only the door would not open. She said the unlocking spell to no avail. They were going to have to fight their way through this inside.

They stood together, their positions in the fighting stance they had been taught at Hogwarts.

The first of many black cloaked figures with masks, had his wand outstretched at the two of them. He was the only one that spoke.

"Drop your wands," the man ordered. "There is no escape."

"When you say it so nicely like that it really makes me want to," said Ron, his wand still aimed at the Death Eater's chest.

"I won't warn you again."

That was when Ron sprang into action. "_Expelliarmus_!" He shouted, sending the Death Eater who had been speaking to them stumbling back, and cast a second disarming spell on the one nearest him.

"_Stupefy!_" Hermione's voice joined Ron's. She managed to stun two more before a curse hit her from behind and she fell to the ground. She cursed herself for not considering the dead end was just another illusion. Ron tried to fight the attack from behind, but he too was hit and went down.

Hermione felt a body binding charm being cast on her, as she was helpless to resist or fight back when a pair of arms grabbed hers and roughly dragged her forward.

Something was happening, Harry was sure of it. No one had been down to check on him in hours. He had no way to know if they were planning some sort of attack or even get out a warning if they were. He was utterly useless, sitting there, hands chained behind his back.

He heard the door to upstairs open, and with it the sounds of orders being barked back and forth before footsteps began to descend down the stairs.

It didn't take long for Harry to figure out what all the commotion was all about. His eyes widened in horror and his heart stopped in his chest at what he saw.

Ron and Hermione, with their hands bound behind their backs were shoved to their knees in front of his cell.

Malfoy unlocked Harry's cell and unbound his wrists from the shackles with one flick of his wand. Two Death Eaters came inside and grabbed him. They shoved him out of the cell's confinements and onto the hard cold floor in front of his friends.

They continued to hold him from behind, their grip remained tight so that it was practically cutting off the circulation in his arms, but nothing was as tight as his chest at seeing his two friends in front of him. They looked relatively unharmed, but a feeling in his gut told him that wouldn't last long.

"Aren't you going to say hello to your friends, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, but neither dared to say a word. Their expressions were brave but the fear in their eyes mirrored his own.

"I'm sure this was not the happy reunion you were hoping for, so let's see what we can do to fix that," said Malfoy. He pointed his wand at Hermione. "_Crucio_!"

Both he and Ron were screaming at him stop, but Malfoy did not let up. Hermione's screams filled the room but not once did she beg for him to stop. Ron shouted an explicit string of curses at Malfoy that earned him a slug across the face from the Death Eater behind him.

When Malfoy finally stopped the Cruciatus curse, Hermione crumbled to the floor shaking.

Malfoy looked up at Harry, a smug grin on his face at seeing the look of horror and loathing on Harry's.

"Tell me what you know about the prophecy you heard last year in the Department of Mysteries."

Ron was staring at him confused, and Harry knew he would be next if he didn't say something. Both his friends were going to be tortured for something they didn't even know existed.

"Or maybe the Mudblood would like to tell me so I'll spare her the next time."

"She doesn't know anything!" Harry shouted.

"Then tell me what I want to know."

"Harry, don't you tell them anything!" Hermione managed to cry out.

Harry was torn. He knew they would never get out of there alive even if he told Malfoy everything he wanted, but he didn't know how much longer he could stand watching his friends suffer under one of the Unforgivable curses. Lucius Malfoy had spent days trying to break him and not once had Harry had ever given any indication that he was close to being broken. Malfoy had finally figured out there was only one way to break Harry Potter – through his friends.

Malfoy didn't even give out a warning this time before using the Cruciatus on Ron.

"What is the Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry clenched his jaw tight, forcing himself to watch Ron writher in agony. Ron was paying the price for being his friend and all he could do was watch.

He lost track of the time as Malfoy continued to alternate between torturing Hermione and Ron. He didn't ask Harry any more questions because Harry knew what two answers would make it all stop.

"I've heard that prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus causes brain damage," Malfoy said after awhile. His wand was held out in front of him, deciding who to torture next.

Ron and Hermione were barely able to sit up, but they had forced looks of determination on their faces.

"Of course there are other more noticeable methods that may get you to talk," Malfoy continued. "My father had a rather disgusting fascination with muggles," he said, gesturing to the chamber they were in. "He would bring them back here and I'm sure that by looking around you have a fair idea of what he did to them." He tucked his wand back inside his black robes and walked over to a beat up looking wooden table in the far corner. There were at least a dozen sharp metal objects sitting on it. Malfoy picked up a slender knife that looked to have rusted over the years. "His fascination may have been misguided but he had the right idea on how to go about it. So I'm giving you one last chance, Potter. You tell me what I've been patiently waiting for and I will release your friends. If not, I guarantee you their deaths will be anything but quick."

"Don't say anything!" Ron shouted, seeing how close Harry was getting to breaking. They could never give away what the Order of the Phoenix was and the location of their headquarters. It went well beyond saving lives. The Order might be their last chance to stop Voldemort.

"One last chance, Potter," Malfoy warned, stepping between his friends, the knife clutched in his right hand.

"Don't you fucking say a word!" Ron yelled at him. "You know he'll never let us leave here alive!"

Harry swallowed hard. He was very likely condemning them to their death by staying silent. Malfoy was done with the games. He meant to kill them now. His silence gave the Death Eater his answer.

He took the knife and plunged it into Ron's midsection, twisting and plunging it deeper and deeper before at last pulling it out. Ron quickly became a crumpled heap on the floor, his hands feeling around on the gaping open wound there. A pool of blood was already beginning to seep onto the floor around him.

Hermione was screaming, and Malfoy was staring at Harry, his look telling him he could have prevented this.

"I've cut through some vital arteries. I suspect he has little more than ten minutes to live," Malfoy informed Harry.

Harry suddenly felt something visibly snap inside himself. At that same moment, the two guards holding him went crashing into opposite walls, landing in unmoving heaps on the floor. The first Death Eaters who jumped forward to grab him ended up in similar fates, except Harry could actually hear their necks snapping before they slumped to the ground. The next group was slightly more cautious but that only spared them a few extra seconds. He was still unarmed and it would only take one curse from Malfoy's wand to bring him down. He envisioned himself smashing Malfoy's head against the concrete wall and it happened just like that, except he was dead before he hit the ground.

It took Harry about three seconds to bring himself out of his shocked state. There would be time later to think about what he had done. There were much more important things to worry about now. He rushed to Ron's side where Hermione already was. Ron's face was covered in sweat and he had turned as white as a ghost. His eyes kept rolling back into his head.

"Hang on. We're going to get you out of here," Harry told him, trying to control the panic in his voice. He didn't even know if Ron could hear him.

"We have to do the spell," Hermione said frantically to Harry. The front of her shirt and hands were soaked in Ron's blood.

"Not here," he said immediately. "We have to get out of here."

"Harry he's lost too much blood. He's going to die," she sobbed frantically.

He grabbed her arms and shook her, desperate to make her understand the severity of the situation. "And we'll all die if we don't get out of here _now_," he argued. "I don't know how many other Death Eaters are still here."

Even though it was clear she disagreed with him, he didn't waste any more time arguing with her. He hauled Ron to his feet and flung one of his arms around his shoulder. With Hermione's help, the two of them half carried, half dragged him up the staircase, both trying desperately not to think of Ron's laboured breathing or all the blood he had lost.

They ducked around a corner just as several bursts of red energy hit the spot where they had just been. The remaining Death Eaters were closing in on them, and Harry did the only thing he could think of. Using the wand had picked up from a fallen Death Eater, he aimed it at the roof to send a section of it crashing down behind them to help cover their escape.

"Where's the door?" Harry asked her, coughing from all the debris he had created.

She moved away from him and Ron to begin searching the walls. "It sealed itself when we came in," she explained. "There has to be some kind of a switch …" She frantically felt around the smooth brick wall, eventually coming across a loose one and pulled it free. A doorway appeared out of thin air and she wasted no time in yanking it open.

She went back to help Harry with Ron, and together managed to get him across the open acre of grass and into the sheltered forest area.

"We need to stop," Hermione panted.

He disagreed. They needed to get as far away from here as possible. There was no telling how quickly the Death Eaters would break through the pile of rubble he had created.. "Hermione, we have to – "

"No, we have to do this now before it's too late," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for his response, she removed Ron's arm from over her shoulder and with Harry's help laid him as gently on the ground as they could.

Harry knew he should have argued further, insisting they needed to be a safe distance from here, but he wanted to save Ron as badly as she did.

"He's not breathing," she said, leaning over his body.

That was all the convincing Harry needed that they had to try and heal him now.

"Sit on the other side of him," she instructed him. "Grab both my hands and close your eyes."

He did as he was told, marveling at how calm her voice was, but when he touched her hands they were shaking as badly as his own.

"You have to clear your mind and concentrate," she said, making it sound like an order.

It was exactly like the practice sessions where they had gone through each of the steps in order to perform the spell. Except this time Ron's life depended on them performing this correctly. He was trying to force everything from his mind, but the events from his capture and the last several hours refused to abate.

"Harry!"

"I'm trying!"

He called on some of the Occlumency skills he had picked up for clearing the mind. He searched for that one spot of peace somewhere in his mind and used it to focus.

He wasn't sure what happened next, but knew his mind was no longer his own. He caught glimpses of Hermione and knew the meld was working. With their souls joined together she could see everything as they worked to get Ron a part of it. Long, agonizing moments passed before they were able to see Ron's injury in their minds. Their hands hovered over the wound as they tried to use the protection magic to heal it.

Harry could actually see strands of blood vessels and arteries repairing themselves. That was when he felt something go wrong. Both his and Hermione's eyes snapped open at the same instant. His hands were shaking so badly now he could barely continue to grip Hermione's, and there was this scorching heat coming from them. A white light began peaking through Ron's injury and his body started shaking. Then he and Hermione were hurled backwards as the blinding light filled the area and then died almost as quickly as it had started.

Hermione scrambled back to Ron's side. The wound was still there, but he no longer seemed to be losing blood. She couldn't understand what had gone wrong. He should have been healed completely. The spell _should_ have worked.

Then she saw him stir and his eyes blink open. He tried to move and let out a groan.

"Don't try to move," she said, hovering over him. "I don't know how badly you're still hurt."

Harry moved to go to Ron's side when he heard a twig snap.

He shared a quick look with Hermione and they both knew there would be no escape this time. If they moved Ron now it would probably kill him. Harry poised himself to attack. He was the only one with a wand. Maybe he could hold them off long enough for Hermione to risk moving Ron –

"Harry?"

He recognized that voice, but didn't lower his wand. A second later someone stepped out from the coverage of the forest. It was Bill, followed by Charlie, Moody, Tonks, Lupin and a dozen other men wearing the designated Auror robes. While The Order members faces were filled with relief, The Aurors looked furious.

Bill rushed to his brother's side where Hermione still was, while Moody came up to him. "You all right, Potter?"

He gave a faint nod. He really didn't care much about himself right now. The only thing on his mind was getting Ron to a Healer.

Tonks conjured up an invisible stretcher for Ron, who rose from the ground a moment later.

"What in Merlin's beard happened here a few moments ago?" Moody asked him. "There was a bright light coming from this clearing that could be seen straight across the forest."

"I don't really know," Harry told him. It wasn't a lie either. He couldn't even begin to explain what had transpired, and he certainly wasn't up to giving Moody an explanation of the spell he and Hermione had used to help save Ron's life.

Moody's revolving glass eye studied him carefully for a moment, before turning away to watch the stretcher with Ron on it move forward of its own accord.

"He'll pull through if we get him to St. Mungo's in time," Moody said to him.

It was the Auror's own way of being comforting, but Harry didn't find much comfort in that statement. He didn't want to be told that his friend might make it, but until the Healers had a look at Ron there wasn't anyone who could tell him anything different. He watched as Hermione walked beside the stretcher, holding Ron's hand, while Lupin and Charlie walked on either end of it.

The other Aurors that had come with them were staying behind and moving into tactical positions around the illusioned house. One of them shot Moody a sharp look before walking away.

Harry had never seen an Auror look at Moody with that kind of disrespect. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about right now, Potter," said Moody, pulling him away from the other Aurors. "We need to get you to St. Mungo's – make sure the curses those bastard Death Eaters threw at you haven't rattled your brain too much."

Harry wasn't really paying attention to him. He was watching Tonks and two Aurors have a silent argument. He had never seen Tonks so furious. "I'm going to have to ask you some questions, Potter," Moody said, drawing his attention away from the other Aurors. "Starting with how the hell you broke out of that house full of armed Death Eaters."

Harry nodded his consent and Moody began firing questions at him as they trekked back through the forest, careful to remain close behind the others.


	23. Scars

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Scars

No matter how much time a person spent at St. Mungo's nothing about it ever seemed to change. Healers and orderlies would go about doing their rounds, acting is if the place was some sort of business and not where the sick and dying filled up room after room. Hermione had grown to hate everything about it, from the bleak coloured walls to the awkward visitor's chairs in the hallways. It had an almost antiseptic smell to it, which made her wonder how anyone was supposed to recover in such a drab environment.

She was grateful to be at last done with the Healers who were finally satisfied there was no residual damage from the Cruciatus curse. It was all she could do not to yell at them to go faster. She didn't feel right being fussed over when their were other patients – patients like Ron – who were much more seriously injured and could use their help.

Tonks had been waiting outside the room when she finally emerged. She brought news of Ron, saying he was awake but they were only allowing immediate family in with him. She explained it was standard hospital procedure and that by tomorrow she should be able to visit him.

It was hard to accept that she was going to have to wait a little longer to be allowed in to see him. After everything that had happened that day, she really needed to be close to him. She knew she was being selfish because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley deserved to stay by their son's side, but that was how she felt as Tonks was leading her to the examination room that Harry had been put in.

"You go in," Tonks said when they got there. "I'll wait out here."

Through the small glass window on the door Hermione could see a Healer still in there with Harry. The Healer was frowning at something Harry was telling him. She knocked twice and Harry waved her inside. The Healer didn't look impressed with the interruption.

"We're finished here," said the Healer as Harry retrieved his shirt and threw it over his head. "I know I can't make you stay, but I really wish you would reconsider what I said about staying overnight."

"No, thanks," Harry said firmly. "I've already made up my mind."

"And there's nothing you're friend can say to change your mind?" The Healer acknowledged Hermione's presence for the first time.

"No, there isn't," said Harry, letting a touch of impatience creep into his voice.

Noting Harry's resolute state, the Healer gave up on trying to change his mind and exited the room.

"What was that all about?" She asked as soon as it was just the two of them.

He almost opened his mouth to respond by saying 'nothing' because it had become almost a conditioned response whenever someone asked him what was going on, but he stopped himself just short of doing so. Hermione didn't look like she needed anything else to worry about, but it didn't feel right to lie to her. She and Ron had risked everything for him that night.

"Harry?" Her tone had become worried since he still had not answered her.

He sighed. "They noticed some unusual brain activity in my test results. The Healer said my brain waves were unlike anything he's ever seen before. He thinks it may be from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus and wanted to keep me here for overnight so they could run a few more tests."

"But it's not from the Cruciatus," Hermione said immediately.

He just looked at her, really not sure how to put any of it into words; just grateful that Hermione was figuring it out for herself without him having to explain it to her.

"Harry, I saw what you did. I can't explain it, but I _saw_ it. If you hadn't – " she stopped herself from saying the word 'killed' because Harry was not a killer. " – hadn't done what you did, we never would have got out of there."

"Do you know how many people were down there?" He asked in a voice that frightened her. "Twelve," he said, answering his own question. "I murdered twelve people in cold blood, including Malfoy's father."

She could hear the racking guilt in his voice. "Don't do this to yourself, Harry. You're not a murderer. Murderers don't feel remorse or wish things could have turned out different. They kill because they can and you'll never be that person."

It was war and people died, but he never thought he would think twice let alone feel guilt at having killed a Death Eater. He wanted to forget about all of that for the moment and focus on what was important. "Have you seen Ron?" She looked relieved that he had let the previous subject go.

"Tonks said he's awake, but only his parents are allowed in with him. She said if we come back in the morning they might let us visit."

"How bad is it?" He asked, keeping his voice neutral.

"It's serious," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "He lost a lot of blood and some vital organs were damaged. The doctors can't figure out how he survived."

"They didn't find any traces of the spell?"

"No, but they weren't looking for it. If they find it there's going to be a lot of questions."

It was going to be very hard to explain just what exactly they had done. They were bound to be a world of trouble, but Harry didn't care and he was sure Hermione didn't either. All that mattered was they had saved Ron's life.

Hermione moved closer to him, her voice grave when she spoke next. "Harry, something went wrong when we did it. We shouldn't have been thrown backwards like that. I can't even begin to explain what that light was. All I know is that he should have been completely healed."

Harry ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Maybe the spell wasn't strong enough. You said so yourself, the bond is only meant to be between two people. It may have been weakened by adding another person, but it did bring Ron back after he stopped breathing and it healed his wound enough to give the Healers a chance to save him." He really didn't understand any of it either, but that's what happened when you messed around with magic that was beyond your comprehension.

She knew what it meant, but she wasn't even sure she could call what they had accomplished a success. True, Ron wasn't dead but he was still badly injured. If the spell had turned out the way it was supposed to he should have been in perfect health. She was already doubting if it would work a second time. There were just too many uncertainties, and with very little even available on the subject she doubted she would be able to find a way to fix what had gone wrong. She would just have to find another spell to protect them, it was that simple.

A knock sounded on the door and Remus Lupin entered.

"I thought I'd find you both in here. How are you holding up?" He ran a concerned eye over both of them.

Hermione looked over at Harry before answering, "we're okay."

"I know this is probably the last thing either one of you want to hear right now but several ministry owls turned up at Hogwarts, right in the Headmaster's office, carrying messages about under-age magic usage. Considering the circumstances, the ministry would very likely dismiss most of them and not expel you from Hogwarts."

"You said they would likely dismiss most of the warnings. Why not all?" Hermione asked.

"Because the final letter that arrived was a formal charge for using an ancient powerful magic that is no longer used, and is far too dangerous for any under age wizard to be practicing." At least they had the grace to look guilty, but he wasn't going to make this easy for them. "I won't even ask what you were thinking because you most certainly weren't. If you had been, you never would have done such a foolish and stupid thing."

Harry stepped forward, he had never seen Lupin this angry before. "Professor, we – "

"Do either of you have any idea what you've done?" He pressed on, ignoring Harry's interruption. "There's a reason why no one attempts sacrificial or life bonding spells anymore, _and_ there's a reason why they never work. No witch or wizard should have that kind of power, and those that have tried have paid the price for it."

"My mum used a spell similar to this one," Harry said, meet Lupin's hard stare.

Lupin's features softened for a moment. "The circumstances were different. What your mother did was not planned – she just acted, doing what was necessary to save your life by giving up hers. I'm not even sure she knew what would happen. She didn't attempt to harness forces for her own personal benefit."

"So you're saying we should have just let Ron die, is that?" Hermione snapped angrily. She had always had the utmost respect for Lupin, but she didn't need to be lectured like some child who had just received her first wand. She knew how dangerous it was to do the spell – they all did, but there were some things worth taking risks for. She thought of all people Professor Lupin would understand that.

"Hermione, I care about Ron too, but some lines are not meant to be crossed. It could have turned out badly for the three of you. As it is, we have no way to tell what the long-term effects might be. You played around with magical forces that were beyond your comprehension and didn't care that there might be consequences – and there are always consequences with this type of magic. I expected more from you." As he said it, he let his eyes fall on Hermione and she gazed back unflinchingly.

Lupin didn't say another word to either one of them before vacating the room.

The worst part was every word Lupin had spoken had been true, and Hermione knew it, but had insisted on going ahead with the spell regardless. It had saved Ron's life and she would never regret doing it, even if it meant never being able to go back to Hogwarts. But she knew that wasn't the consequences Lupin had been referring to.

It was Moody, not Tonks, who was waiting for Harry and Hermione when they left the examination room.

"I don't think I've ever seen Lupin quite as angry as when he walked out of there a minute ago," Moody stated. His magical eye swerved to meet Harry first and then Hermione, but it was clear from their expressions they would not comment on the matter. "I still need to ask you both some questions," his gruff voice taking on it's regular no nonsense tone again.

Harry didn't feel up to another one of Mad-Eye's interrogations, but it wasn't as if he had somewhere he needed to be. The sooner he answered Mad-Eye's questions, the sooner he would be able to get the Auror off his back and not have to keep reliving that night over and over again.

He and Hermione took a seat in the visitor's chairs, while Moody pulled his chair to the front so he could be seated directly in front of them.

"I've asked some of these questions before," Moody started, "but I need any other information you can remember." He fixed his stare on Harry. "The Aurors have completed their sweep of the mansion and they only found bodies in the basement. Do you know how many Death Eaters were present in the house at a time?"

"No," Harry answered. "There was never more than one or two that came down to see me."

He turned to Hermione next. "How did you break through the illusion charm?"

"I couldn't break the spell completely. I cast a revealing spell to find a doorway for Ron and I to get in."

Moody nodded thoughtfully. "Smart girl." He wasn't taking any notes, but Harry doubted he would forget a word that either he or Hermione said.

"There were no Death Eaters found alive when the Aurors took the house. We're presuming that once your escape happened the remaining Death Eaters abandoned it. Now, the body count in the basement was twelve, so what doesn't add up is how you were able to take them on with no wands and make it out of there alive. By all counts, you and Weasley should be dead," he said, indicating to Hermione, "and Potter here should be the Dark Lord's prisoner."

"I can't explain it," said Harry. "One minute we were surrounded by Death Eaters and the next we were running for our lives."

"You're leaving something out," Moody persisted.

"Oh, right, I forgot the part where Lucius Malfoy stabbed Ron and left him to bleed to death," Harry snapped and Hermione flinched beside him.

Moody's expression didn't change. "I need to know how those bodies got there."

"I did it," said Harry. "I don't know how, but I did it. I couldn't sit there any longer and watch him torture my friends while I did nothing." He could feel Hermione's eyes on him, but he purposely kept his gaze focused on Moody.

"There is no humanly possible way you could have attacked every Death Eater in that room without being struck down yourself. Unless you have some hidden powers that have never surfaced before now."

Harry didn't answer right away. He could almost feel Moody's magical eye seeing right through him and into his mind. He had no reason not to trust Moody. But how was he supposed to explain what he had done when he didn't understand it himself? He had killed using only his mind, fueled by his own rage. That sort of thing just wasn't supposed to happen, and yet it did. Moody was still watching him, waiting for an explanation.

"You think you can hold off on the questions for one night, Mad-Eye?" Came the voice of Tonks from behind the Auror's shoulder. "They've been through enough without you interrogating them to death."

By the set of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed, Moody clearly disagreed. "Any additional information they have – "

"Can wait until later," Tonks finished. Ignoring Moody's glares, she turned to the two teenagers and said, "let's get out of here for a while."

"I want to stay here," responded Hermione and Harry nodded his agreement.

"How about we go back Grimmauld Place, get you guys a hot shower and a change of clothes and we'll come back as soon as they send word that you can see Ron, okay?"

It sounded like a fair deal, even though Hermione would have preferred to stay where she was. It was stupid really because there was nothing she could do for Ron, but somehow just the thought of staying felt like it would help. If she stayed, that meant Harry would stay too and Moody would continue to pressure him for answers. After spending a week at the mercy of Death Eaters he didn't need that right now, and it did not seem likely that Moody would understand that. For Harry's sake, she agreed to go back to Grimmauld Place.

As they walked away from Moody, Tonks said to them both, "Mad-Eye means well. He just doesn't know when to quit. Too many years spent as an Auror."

She was dead on with that assessment. Harry wasn't even sure if Moody was capable of being sympathetic, but it wasn't his fault really. That's what happened when you spent most of your life trying to stay one step ahead of the people who were trying to kill you.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked the Auror. She noticed they weren't heading down towards the main lobby area.

"We're taking the back entrance," she said to them both. "Reporters will be all over the main one."

"Reporters?" Said Harry, slightly confused.

She nodded. "You would think a St. Mungo's worker would have enough self respect not to go blabbing to the press that Harry Potter is here after escaping from the clutches of Death Eater's," she said, shaking her head. "They had to ban visitors for a while because reporters were sneaking in, claiming to be visiting family. They even caught a few of them pretending to be Healers," she said, disgusted at the notion. "The ministry put a ban on reporters at St. Mungo's, so naturally they're all waiting outside, trying to gather whatever information they can get their grubby hands on."

Harry would be forever grateful that Tonks was able to get them out of there without a single reporter seeing them. He did not want to be hounded by merciless reporters, looking to get an inside account of what had happened. He would rather have endured more of Moody's interrogation.

The trip back to Grimmauld Place was shorter then he and Hermione had been expecting. Either Tonks wasn't worried about being followed, or they had discovered a new route to get to Phoenix Headquarters unnoticed. Using the floo system was out of the question because it was probably being watched. They ended up grabbing several portkeys at different locations before the last one transported them a block away from their destination.

When they were safely inside, Tonks said she would scrounge up something to eat for them while they went up to change. Harry wasn't sure which one of them needed a change of clothes more. Hermione's shirt was covered in dry blood and some of it had splattered onto her pants, whereas he had been living in his clothes for the last week. He let Hermione shower first, and it was a good thing too because once it was his turn he had just stayed under the hot water for minutes at a time, trying not to think about anything, and yet all he could do was relive the last twelve hours in his head.

No matter how long he stayed under the spray of the showerhead, it couldn't wash away what had happened. He could still hear his friend's screams while Lucius Malfoy used the Cruciatus on them. If he squeezed his eyes shut he could recount the exact moment when Malfoy plunged the rusted knife into Ron's midsection, followed by Hermione's frantic screams, and recall every bitter detail of his brutal attack on his captors. He finally found the strength to turn off the water and emerge from the shower before Tonks or Hermione would worry enough to come check on him.

All of his belongings were still at Hogwarts, so he was forced to borrow some clothes from Ron. Since his friend was taller than him, the sleeves on the jumper were a bit too long and the hem of the jeans were slightly dragging on the floor. Considering he had been forced to wear Dudley's oversized clothes for the better part of his life, Ron's fit near perfect in comparison. When he finally came down to the basement kitchen, Tonks and Hermione were seated at the table having a conversation, a large plate of untouched sandwiches sitting in the middle.

He got the distinct impression they had been talking about him, as they had stopped conversing the moment he walked in. It was equally as likely he was being paranoid. Being cooped up with a bunch of Death Eaters for a week could do that to a person.

"I'm no Molly Weasley," began Tonks as Harry pulled out a chair at the end of the table, "but I think my sandwiches are pretty good."

He initially took a sandwich just so Tonks wouldn't have gone to all that trouble for nothing, but after the first bite his stomach growled with uncontrolled hunger. He couldn't remember the last real meal he had. Nothing had ever tasted so good as the ham and cheese sandwich he was eating right then.

"I was just telling Hermione that I spoke with Remus after he had talked with you two."

The sandwich suddenly didn't taste as good anymore. He looked up at Tonks, expecting to see that same look of reprimand and disappointment that had been present on Lupin's face but it was nowhere to be found.

"Remus has always been very cautious for most of his adult life because of his werewolf condition. I think he's just worried that the three of you have gotten yourselves into something that's even beyond your capabilities to handle. Remus took a lot of – we'll call them foolish risks, while he was growing up. If Sirius were here – " Tonks stopped speaking immediately and looked almost apologetic at Harry.

"It's okay," he said, his voice taking on a quiet tone. "Go on."

She looked hesitant at first eventually continued. "Sirius would tell you everything they did in their youth and you would never look at your dear old professor the same way again."

"How serious is the hearing Harry and I are going to have to attend?" Hermione asked.

"For the most part, it would be the same Ministry procedure as with anyone who broke the underage wizarding laws after receiving their two warnings. But it will probably be in a much more formal setting because of the seriousness of the last offence. I have a feeling though that once the Ministry is given full access to what happened at the old Malfoy mansion, it will help your case because they'll see it was a life or death situation. I don't think you two have a lot to worry about. Hermione, your record is spotless and once they see your Hogwarts marks, there's no way any sane panel would find you guilty. And Harry, they're going to know what happened to you there. No one will fault you for trying to save your best friends lives."

"So you don't think we were wrong for doing the spell?" Hermione said to her.

"You did what you thought was right at the time to ensure the safety of your friends, and Ron would be dead if you hadn't. But the magic you undertook to ensure that safety is not practiced for good reason. Even the brightest minds were never able to control that kind of power, so it's unbelievable that you three had any success at all in casting it at all. But there's never been anyone who used that kind of powerful magic that didn't suffer some kind of repercussions later on, especially when it comes to life bonding or soul spells. Those are the most dangerous of all and that's why they're forbidden. Messing around with the natural forces of life is not something any one person should have the power to do."

Tonks words were reminiscent of Lupin's, though the severity and anger were missing from her voice. They had known what they were getting into when they had performed the binding spell months ago, and even knowing what faced them ahead, Harry didn't think he regretted doing it any more than Hermione did.

They didn't talk about the healing spell any more after that. In fact they didn't talk much at all. They moved into the parlor, waiting for some news from St. Mungo's. After awhile, Hermione had curled up into an armchair, dozing on and off, but it wasn't until Harry entered a light sleep that he heard voices conversing in the hallway. He was awake almost instantly. Hermione was still asleep, so he quietly crept into the hall.

Tonks was standing there talking with Mr. Weasley. Despite looking quite haggard, Mr. Weasley beamed at him.

"Ron can have visitors now. He's asking for you and Hermione."

Harry couldn't help but grin too. He hurried back into the parlor to wake Hermione.

A few minutes later they were on their way back to St. Mungo's.

Mrs. Weasley was just walking out of Ron's room as they arrived. "Go on in, dears," she said to them. "The Healers are still limiting him to three visitors at a time, but he's doing much better." She ushered Harry and Hermione into the room but did not come in herself.

He was lying down, with his head propped up by a couple of pillows. By looking at him, Harry could see he was still in quite a bit of pain, regardless of that he grinned broadly when he saw the two of them walk in. Hermione reached his side first. She leaned forward to hug him, then thought better of it and settled instead for holding his hand.

"I'm not fragile, you know," Ron said to her.

"Sounds like he's feeling fine to me," Harry said good-naturedly.

"Nice outfit, mate," Ron commented, taking in Harry's appearance.

"I've worn a lot worse," Harry informed him.

Ron's face grew serious all of the sudden. "Mum mentioned that you two have to attend a hearing. She says the Ministry sent a notice about the healing spell you performed. She made it sound like you're in a lot of trouble."

"Tonks doesn't seem overly worried about it," Hermione said, though she didn't sound like she completely believed the Auror.

"You and Harry shouldn't be taking all the blame for it," he continued. "I was a part of it too."

"But you didn't actually perform the spell on someone, and even if you did the ministry wouldn't have a sent an owl out because you're seventeen," Hermione explained. "You wouldn't have been performing magic underage. That's why as soon as I used magic they found out where we were."

"It's not just that," said Ron, and while Harry and Hermione gave him equally quizzical looks, he picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ off the small nightstand. "It's all over the front page," he said, handing it to Harry. "I don't know how you walked in here without hearing about it."

Harry unfolded the paper and read the article out loud so Hermione could hear as well.

"The Boy Who Almost Didn't Live 

_ Several hours ago, the _Daily Prophet_ learned that Harry Potter had been in the clutches of He Who Must Not Be Named's Death Eaters for the last five days. The Boy Who Lived was taken from Hogwarts, which up until now was assumed one of the most protected places in all of Britain, while the Aurors were apparently asleep on the job. However, this was not the case as Cornelius Fudge would have us believe. Reliable sources tell us the Aurors were under orders from the Minister himself to let the kidnapping happen. It was one last desperate attempt to win back the trust of wizarding communities around Britain. Now, Cornelius Fudge will be lucky to stay alive long enough for the Ministry appointed council to throw him out. As disturbing as Fudge's plan sounds it gets much worse. The cloaked Aurors allowed Harry Potter to be taken, knowing that he would be brought to You-Know-Who himself. The plan was for them to wait until You-Know-Who showed up and then take him out along with his most trusted followers – but that never happened. The Dark Lord did not appear, which leads the _Daily Prophet_ to the conclusion that he somehow knew of the plot against him and remained in hiding. The Aurors did not act. If You-Know-Who did not show then their allowing Harry Potter to be kidnapped, the same boy who they were supposed to have been protecting would have been for nothing._

_ Albus Dumbledore learned of the Auror's deception and assembled his own rescue team to get him back. To the absolute fury of the Aurors, their position was compromised and their entire operation was blown. Senior Auror, Alastor Moody, one of the few not involved in the coup, is heading up an internal investigation of the entire Auror department. Twelve Auror dismissals have been confirmed so far._

_ Harry Potter is alive and St. Mungo's healers say he will make a full physical recovery. However, the mental scars from this horrific incident – "_

Harry stopped reading, not wanting to read about the suspected mental injuries he had suffered from such a tragedy. But the rage that was building inside him for what the Aurors had let happen was only beginning.

"I can't believe an Auror would let you be kidnapped on purpose," Hermione said, mortified. "It was all just a carefully laid out plan to attempt to go after Voldemort with you as the bait. But they never anticipated he would figure out what was happening and not show. Voldemort must have known there were Aurors watching Hogwarts and they would never allow you to be taken."

"You should have seen Moody and Tonks earlier," Ron said to them. "They pulled their wands on the Aurors stationed here and told them to leave. It took every available healer here to stop them from actually using their wands. That's why there's no Aurors here now because no one knows which one's were involved."

It was all so unbelievable. The _Prophet_ had been known to exaggerate at times, and sometimes lie outright, but Ron had confirmed what had been written there. He thought the Ministry was finally on his side after the events of last June, but they had simply been using him to lure Voldemort out of hiding. Moody was the only one he trusted to get to the bottom of this. He didn't care that the Aurors were following orders. Whatever punishment Moody handed out would never be enough.

He broke out of his thoughts at the sound of a door opening, and he could not keep his eyes from widening in surprise when he saw who it was. Ginny Weasley walked in and strode purposefully towards the only bed in the small room. She gave her brother a quick hug, as if she was afraid she might do more damage to him.

"Gin, we've already established I'm not going to break," Ron complained.

She rolled her eyes but refrained from retorting back. She exchanged hugs with Hermione and then Harry, who felt like she had lingered a bit longer when she embraced him. For the moment, he forgot how much he hated the Ministry.

"How did you get here?" Hermione asked the younger girl.

"Professor McGonagall told me what happened, and then Dumbledore arranged a portkey to bring me here. I only just found out everything a few hours ago," she said to them.

"What did McGonagall tell you?" Ron asked her.

"Just that Hermione left Luxemburg to come here and then the two of you left to rescue Harry. Why? What else don't I know?" Her tone was suspicious.

"No, that's pretty much it," said Ron.

His tone told her that he was most certainly leaving something out. She looked to Harry and Hermione for confirmation, but they just stared back at her not saying a word. If McGonagall had not felt the need to tell her what really happened, then they were not going to be the ones to share the horror story with her.

"Gin, can you bring mum in here? I want her to know what the Healer said about me getting out of here."

Ginny nodded and headed for the door, feeling more like her brother was trying to get rid of her than anything else.

"When are you being released?" Hermione asked him.

Ron waited until the door was shut behind Ginny before speaking. "I don't know… a week maybe? But that's not important. I didn't want Ginny to hear what I need to ask you. If she doesn't know anything beyond what mum and the others have told her, I don't want her to know anything else."

Harry and Hermione nodded their agreement.

Ron turned his head so he was facing Harry. "I don't really remember everything that happened," he started, "but I do remember Lucius Malfoy wanting to know something about a prophecy that only you had heard."

Hermione was staring at him expectantly as well, and there was no longer any way he could hide the prophecy from them. He only wished it hadn't taken a Death Eater capture for him to confide in them. Ten minutes later he had explained everything about what Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy. His friends looked thoroughly shocked by the news, but they didn't look frightened by what he had shared with them. It made him wish he had told them sooner, but he hadn't been ready to deal with it before then.

Expectedly, Hermione was the first to speak.

"Prophecies don't always come to be true Harry," she stated. "A lot of them are rubbish, predicated by Seers who use them to gain a name for themselves. They usually predict things so far into the future, that by the time the event does happen the Seer is likely already dead."

"Dumbledore seems to think it's real enough," said Harry. "I have to kill Voldemort or be killed. We both can't continue to exist.

"No disrespect to Dumbledore, but the future is not set in stone, Harry. Every choice we make affects and changes what the future will be like."

"Then why did Lucius Malfoy want to know what the prophecy was? Voldemort has to think it's important," he said, ignoring how Ron visibly flinched at the name. "And why did the Order spend most of last year guarding the Department of Mysteries, so Voldemort's followers couldn't get at it?"

"I honestly don't know, Harry," she replied sounding as frustrated as him. Her forehead was creased like she was trying to work out the theory behind the prophecy in her head.

"You both could be in a lot of danger," he said regarding each one of his friends carefully.

Hermione stared back at him. "As opposed to…?"

"If Voldemort finds out one of us has to destroy the other, he'll stop at nothing to come after me."

"That's not really any different than before, now is it?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

"She's right, mate," said Ron. "I mean has there ever really been a time when we were safe as your friend?" He joked, an attempt to lighten the situation.

"It's different now," he said, his tone grim.

"Harry, we both know where you're going with this," Hermione started. "If you think Ron and I are going to be any safer if you cut your ties to us now, you're wrong. Voldemort already knows what we mean to you. Besides, we wouldn't let you do it anyways," she said as if that decided everything. There was no way she was going to let Harry pull away from them now. They were stronger together and they needed each other now more than ever.

She was still waiting for Harry to argue her logic when Mrs. Weasley walked in to the silent room with Ginny following close behind her.

"Ginny said the Healers talked to you about when they're going to release you?"

While Ron launched in to what was obviously a fabricated story about his release from St. Mungo's, Harry quietly excused himself and left the room.

He took a seat on one of the chairs outside the room, and for the first time in months began seriously contemplating the prophecy. He hung his head in his hands. He hadn't said anything back in the room, but if the only way for him to survive was to kill Voldemort, then maybe his destiny was ultimately to be a killer, and he had put that destiny in motion by murdering a room full of Death Eaters.

"Are you okay?" A voice asked.

He removed his head from his hands and looked up to see Ginny standing in front of him.

"Just tired," he replied after a moment, and it was fairly obvious by looking at him that it was the truth.

She took a seat alongside him, sitting there in quiet contemplation for several long moments before speaking again. "I knew you'd make it back alive." When he turned to look at her, she continued by saying, "you always seem to find a way out of impossible situations. It's who you are."

"If you're going to tell me I'm lucky, I'd rather not hear it," he said to her.

"No, I wasn't going to say that," she said, smiling slightly. "But you're not exactly unlucky either, Harry."

He wasn't quite sure he understood what she meant by that. He stared down at his feet, saying, "I didn't know what happened to you after the Death Eaters took me… I'm glad you're all right."

She didn't say anything, but did cover his hand with her own. It felt strange to be sitting there with her like that, but then he started thinking about what had happened the last time they had been alone together. He couldn't believe it had only been a week since they had been out on the Quidditch pitch together in the middle of a rainstorm. He felt his cheeks grow warm when he thought about what had possessed him to kiss her like that.

He noticed a silver necklace around her neck with a small pendent on it.

"It's nice," he complimented, breaking the silence between them.

"Oh, thanks." She removed her hand from his and used it to finger the necklace, as if she had just remembered she was wearing it.

He focused on a spot on the wall. "Is it from Dean?"

"He gave it to me a few days ago."

Harry simply nodded, his face expressionless. He stood abruptly. "I need to get some air." He expected his departure to be as simple as that. He had not been counting on her asking to go with him.

"If you want the company," she added as an afterthought.

He would have been perfectly happy being left alone, but at the same time he didn't want to turn down her invitation to go with him. So together they left the waiting area outside Ron's room, a comfortable silence settling between them as they walked.


	24. Becoming

Hey folks, once again I apologize for the extremely long wait in-between chapters. School has been horrible, but I'm done in a month, which means I can go back to updating regularly! I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

And since I've had so many questions about it, the title of my story does come from one of the best ever Buffy episodes, Once More With Feeling.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Becoming

Over the next week, Harry's time was split between Grimmauld Place and St. Mungo's. Ron was well on his way to a full recovery, and was not showing any ill effects from the sacrificial spell he and Hermione had performed on him. Harry had a feeling the Healer put in charge of Ron knew that some sort of healing spell had been used on him previous to his arrival at the wizarding hospital but no one had confirmed that.

Moody had stopped asking questions and Harry did not understand why, until Lupin asked to speak with him. He and Ron had been engaged in a game of chess, one which Harry was inevitably going to lose when Lupin walked in.

"How are you feeling, Ron?" Their old professor asked him.

"Bored out of my bloody mind," he said with a scowl. "I don't know how much more I can take of those Healers poking their noses around me every few hours. They're supposed to come around soon to let me know if I can get out of here today."

Lupin chuckled. "With that attitude, I don't think they'll disappoint you." Then, his expression becoming much more somber he said, "Harry, can I see you for a moment?"

Harry, who was silently surprised that Lupin had even spoken to him, nodded his head. He had not seen much of Lupin since their encounter on his first day back. Even when he was around, they did not speak much.

"I bet you planned this," said Ron as Harry stood up. "You didn't want to suffer another humiliating loss to me."

Harry shot him a conspirator grin, even though he had nothing to do with Lupin dropping by. "I'll beat you when I come back."

Ron gave a dramatic roll of his eyes, and Harry followed Lupin out of the room.

"What's going on?" Harry asked him when they were in the hallway.

"Let's walk," said Lupin.

Extremely curious now, Harry fell in to step beside Lupin and they walked in silence. Whatever it was, it sounded serious. He wondered if it was possible to be in more trouble then he already was. Maybe Lupin was here to tell him he had been expelled. Though how that could have happened when he and Hermione hadn't even hadn't even had their hearing yet made it unlikely.

He realized after a bit that Lupin was leading him towards the same garden area he had walked with Ginny some days ago. It wasn't a real garden. It was created inside the hospital to resemble one. All the plants and insects were real, but the atmosphere and dome were created entirely by magic. The weather would vary slightly, often resembling a bright sunny day or some light cloud coverage. Today, there were a few scattered clouds and a light, cool breeze. The less critical patients were down there with their visitors, or simply enjoying on their own the closest thing the hospital offered to fresh air.

Lupin indicated to an empty bench and they sat down at it.

"Moody's been very interested in how you escaped from the Malfoy mansion," he began. "Dumbledore thinks maybe it's a good idea to test you for any sort of telekinetic or other mind powers."

"Whatever happened was a fluke," Harry insisted. "I hadn't done anything before that and I haven't done anything since then."

"Harry, I've been doing some reading on the subject, mind you there's not a lot on being able to move or do things simply with the power of one's mind. There's only been three telekinetic wizards in the last hundred years. In the two cases I've read about, the gift is inherent almost right from birth."

"Well then that's not me," said Harry instantly.

"It's different with you Harry. The other two wizards didn't battle a dark wizard when they were just a baby."

"Hang on, you said there were three."

"The third one has somewhat limited abilities. It's Voldemort, Harry," Lupin said, watching the expression on the young man's face change. "I know Dumbledore's told you before that Voldemort must have transferred some of his powers to you when you were a baby. That could explain why it's taken this long to show up in you. Your powers may even be even be extremely limited. It took a situation of extreme peril and danger just to bring them out. As you already know, Voldemort is quite skilled at Legilimency. There have also been accounts of him extracting thoughts from his followers at will or projecting his own thoughts into their minds to make them suffer when they have failed him. You, yourself saw Sirius in danger because Voldemort projected that situation into your mind. He's not exactly a telepath Harry, but he can tell when someone is lying and possibly read a mind when it is at its most vulnerable. Those were all reasons Dumbledore had you start Occlumency in the first place, but you may be well beyond that now."

"What if that one time was just an accident?"

"That's still a possibility," Lupin conceded. "There are witches and wizards who have done some extraordinary things under similar circumstances. But I do not believe that is the case with you. Have you been having headaches?"

Harry wasn't sure what he was getting at, but he nodded his head.

"It's being caused by the over activity in your brain. If it were a one-time occurrence you wouldn't have the headaches. Now that you've uncovered this hidden potential, your brain is changing ever so slightly to allow for it to happen again, and then eventually on a continual basis."

Harry wasn't even sure why any of this was coming as a surprise to him. He had already inherited Voldemort's ability to talk to snakes, so why should this be any different?

"What's this test you want me to take?"

"It's a simple procedure. They can do it right here at St. Mungo's. They have special techniques for determining if a person possesses any sort of mind powers beyond the norm. I know this is a lot to take in, but the sooner we find out the extent of your abilities the sooner you can begin training to help stop them from interfering with your normal every day life."

Harry didn't think the word 'normal' accurately described his life, but Lupin seemed to think this was the best way to handle what was happening to him.

"All right," he said after a moment's consideration. "I'll do it."

"I know some of the Healers here personally. I'll talk to them about getting this done as soon as possible." He clasped Harry on the shoulder before standing up. "I know I was quite hard on you and Hermione about the sacrificial spell, and part of the reason was because I was a day away from a full moon. I sometimes have trouble controlling my emotions so close to one. But partly it was because you needed to understand the seriousness of what you'd done. I know how close you, Ron, and Hermione are, but there are limits, Harry."

Then he left Harry there, alone in the garden and with his thoughts.

When Ginny volunteered to find Harry, she did it more than anything to get away from her brother. She loved Ron, but he was really starting to drive her mad. She was amazed at how Hermione could put up with him most of the time. She didn't fancy St. Mungo's anymore than he did, and she figured the Healers had probably already had more than enough of him and that was why they were at last releasing him.

She did not have a whole lot of time to look for Harry either. He could be on any one of the five floors and she might not find him before it came time for her to leave.

Strangely enough, it didn't take that long. She spotted him at the other end of the hall heading in her direction. She had a feeling he was distracted because he didn't take notice of her until their paths finally crossed.

"Where have you been?" She asked.

"Around. I must have lost track of the time."

She was certain now that he was distracted. He looked to be in some discomfort as well. He was rubbing his forehead and squinting.

"Are you okay? You don't look too good," she observed.

"I'm fine. It's just a headache," he told her.

She didn't mention the fact that he seemed to be having headaches all the time now. "The Healers said Ron could go home. Mum's just signing the release forms and then he can leave."

A genuine smile formed on his face and he stopped rubbing his forehead. "That's great news."

"Yeah, it is," she said. "Well, I should probably say good bye," she said after a moment. When Harry gave her a confused look, she said, "Professor McGonagall has already let me stay longer then she should have. If I miss any more lessons Fred and George combined will have more OWLs than me."

"You'll be fine," he said confidently.

"I think I'm going to hold you to that."

She didn't know why it was so awkward to say good-bye to him. They hadn't spoken about what had happened out on the Quidditch pitch before the Death Eaters had attacked, and she had quickly realized it was for the best. Harry already had far too much going on in his life and she was with Dean. There was no point in letting something what was so obviously a mistake ruin a perfectly good friendship. A friendship that had taken five long years to build. That's what she was thinking as she leaned forward to hug him good-bye.

"In case I didn't say so before," she said, still in the embrace, "I'm glad you're okay." She let go of him. "I'll see you back at Hogwarts."

After she was gone, Harry didn't waste any time before heading to Ron's room. He was feeling quite rattled and uncomfortable after coming out of the testing room he had been in for the last hour. Lupin had not been lying when he said he knew some of the Healers there. They had been more than willing to fit him in right away since there were no other appointments scheduled until late in the afternoon. He had been forced to drink a variety of different potions, but not once had they asked him to move something with his mind. He had felt fine going into the testing but his head was positively throbbing now. He had felt slightly better upon seeing Ginny, but his headache had returned in full force again once she had left.

When he reached Ron's room, the door was open and there were a handful of people inside. Lupin, and Moody stood on one side of the bed, while Hermione and Tonks were on the other. Ron was fully dressed and sitting on the unmade bed.

Ron noticed him enter the room first. "Mate, where have you been? Did Ginny find you?"

"Yeah, she told me you were being released."

"About bloody time too."

Mrs. Weasley walked in to the room after Ron's last comment, looking happier then Harry had seen her in quite some time. "All the forms have been taken care of. We can be on our way as soon as you're ready," she told her son.

In his excitement, Ron leapt from the bed and immediately winced in pain.

"You're supposed to take it easy," Mrs. Weasley scolded, coming around to see if he was all right. "The Healers said it will take some time for the injury to heal completely."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Ron, hoping she would stop mothering him in front of a roomful of people. "Can we go now?"

Mrs. Weasley shared a look with Lupin. "First we need to discuss temporary living arrangements until you go back to Hogwarts."

Lupin took that as his cue to speak. "If Lucius Malfoy knew there was an Order of the Phoenix, then Voldemort may know more than we think he does. Until we find out how much he knows about the Order, Phoenix headquarters may not be not be as safe as it once was."

"So where are we going to stay in the meantime?" Hermione asked.

"My parents had a summer home out in the country," began Lupin. "It was very well-protected to keep out any unwanted visitors. We used it to get away from our gawking neighbours in the summertime."

"Your stuff is already there," Tonks spoke up. "Mad-Eye even set up a few extra defense charms around the house."

Harry, who was not really that fond of Number 12 Grimmauld Place to begin with, liked the idea that he would be able to spend the remainder of his days away from Hogwarts, no matter how few they might be, at Lupin's old summer home. That meant Lupin would likely be around a lot more, and would be able to help him work through whatever these changes were that were happening in his head – unless the test results said otherwise.

"We're leaving here in two groups," Moody said, dragging Harry away from his thoughts. "I'll go with these three," he said, indicating to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We'll follow the map Lupin gave me and meet you there."

The three teenagers exchanged knowing looks. Moody wanted to keep a close eye on them, that much was obvious. What kind of trouble he thought they would get up to between St. Mungo's and the Lupin family summer home, was beyond Harry.

Moody left the room first and the trio followed after him, all too aware of the fact that his magical eye would swivel around every once in a while to make sure they were still behind him.


	25. Being The Boy Who Lived

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Being The Boy Who Lived**

The old Lupin summer home turned out to be a rather large, two story house, that had not lost much of its original luster over the years without use. Lupin had explained that his parents, who had died almost a decade earlier, used a lot of preservement charms on it, so that the air would not grow stale during the eight months out of the year it was abandoned. Other than a fresh coat of paint and a good dusting, there was little else that needed to be done to make it look like a decent place to live.

Moody had previously swept through the premises, checking for anything out of the ordinary, and finding only a boggart in the upstairs wardrobe for his efforts. That didn't stop the Auror from doing another walk through the moment they arrived.

Surprisingly, Moody, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley barely stayed long enough to see them settled in. The trio interpreted that to mean only one thing: there was something going on and they did not want to involve them in it. When Moody had been far enough out of earshot, Hermione had said in a hushed voice to Ron and Harry, that having them remain at the summer house served two purposes – not only was it supposedly safer, but they would no longer be able to overhear anything to do with the Order. As angry as Ron appeared at seemingly being shoved out of the way, she knew he was not nearly as upset as Harry was.

When the others had departed, Lupin took them through a tour of the house. He made the mistake of showing them the small library first, which Hermione began poking her nose through all the different books, before Ron finally managed to drag her away. Lupin told them he didn't really have any friends during the summer months when he was away from school, so he spent a lot of his time reading. The upstairs had four bedrooms, and their belongings were already placed in a different room.

The most impressive part was the front and back yards. Barrier charms that had been set up over twenty years previous still stood strong and would create the illusion to outsiders that there was no one in the yard even if there was. Dumbledore had actually been the one to set them up when Lupin had started at Hogwarts. It was a way to ensure complete privacy, even when the nearest home was about a mile away. None of them asked what the small, metal shed in the back had been for.

After the tour, Lupin left them to their own devices. Not surprisingly, Harry retreated outside to the back porch, and Hermione thought it best if she and Ron not follow after him. It wasn't hard to sense that he wanted to be alone. He seemed to have retreated back to the brooding and aloft state he had been in when they had brought him to Grimmauld Place near the end of last summer. They gave him his space, deciding to go upstairs and unpack.

It took Hermione considerably less time to unpack then it normally would. She still only had her travel bag and backpack that she had brought with her from Luxembourg. It was still hard to believe only a week had passed since she had run away from home. It felt like much longer then that. Mrs. Weasley had told her that her father had been contacted and informed of her safety, but she had heard no news of him since then. She found it highly unlikely he would let her remain there, and wondered what had been done on her behalf to allow her to stay.

She wandered down the hall to check on Ron. He was supposedly unpacking as well, but knowing him he would probably just leave everything in his trunk, just taking out things as he needed them. The door to his room was partway open, so she peered inside.

Ron was standing there, clad only in a pair of jeans, and rather obviously struggling to throw a jumper over his head. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh, and it gave her presence away.

Ron stopped his stuggles to glower at her. "You shouldn't laugh at the weak."

"I wasn't laughing," she said, rather unconvincingly.

"Then you were giggling. That's even worse."

"Maybe I'm just trying to even the score between us a little," she teased. "Though I'm fairly certain you've laughed at me more times than I have you."

Ron pretended he didn't hear that last part, but his ears reddened all the same. He resumed trying to pull his jumper over his head, wincing slightly as he did so.

"Do you want a hand?" Hermione asked, seeing his discomfort. There was still a large bandage wrapped around the wound on his side, but at that moment she didn't want to dwell on why the Healers had not been able to do more to heal it.

"Not if you're going to tease," he grumbled.

"Oh, Ron…" This time she managed to conceal a smile as she walked towards him. Ron really could be quite sensitive at times. Something she had only come to notice in the last year.

She took the jumper from him, only to find that she couldn't move. They had not been close like this, just the two of them in months. The night she had showed up at Grimmauld Place didn't count. She had been half asleep from a sleeping drought at the time. It seemed as though Ron was having the same problem as well. His blue eyes were intense and he looked almost nervous. It was then she had her answer. She had been fretting while away in Luxembourg that all that time apart would make them both realize they had made a mistake. That they had let their hormones get the better of them and their friendship would be irrevocably damaged because of it. But as Ron's lips descended on her own, she had never been happier to be wrong.

The jumper fell forgotten to the floor, as she laced her fingers behind Ron's neck, deepening the kiss, which was becoming more frantic and desperate with each passing moment. They fell back onto his bed, and Ron broke the kiss to grimace in pain.

"Sorry. Are you okay?" She asked, straddling his lap.

"Yeah, never better," he said, leaning up to kiss her, but she used her palms to gently push him back down onto his pillow.

"The door's open," she said to him.

"So?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She rolled her eyes in response. "I don't really fancy Professor Lupin seeing us, since it would undoubtedly lead to certain ground rules being set. And Harry may have accepted the idea of us together, but I don't think he wants to walk in on us _together_."

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but he reached for his wand that lay on the nightstand, biting back a grimace of pain. He pointed it at the door and it closed the instant he said the spell.

He dropped the wand back on the nightstand, saying, "You're too rational," before rolling them over, so that he was on top now. She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her by covering her lips with his own.

His hands rested on her waist, while he kissed his way down her neck. She arched her neck to give him better access. He let his hands roam up her back now, underneath her shirt. She pushed herself into him, and he found it extremely difficult to stay in control. They had already talked about this, and Hermione had said she wanted to wait – and he completely respected that. Though it was made that much more difficult by the fact that they had not been together like this in months. He did not want her to think him some hormone-crazed prat, even if that's what he was, and she would find that out if he continued for much longer. So he did the absolute last thing he wanted to do, and pushed himself off of her.

"What is it?" She asked, slightly confused.

"You know my locking charms aren't that great," he lied lamely. "Anyone could walk in here." He saw her mildly hurt expression, before she quickly covered it up. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to go back over to his bed. So he wouldn't give in, he rummaged around inside his trunk and picked out a simple button-up shirt to throw on. At least when they got back to Hogwarts there probably wouldn't be as many opportunities to be alone. On the other hand, it might even be worse with all the Prefect duties they attended to together.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?" He said absently, taking extraordinary effort in fixing the buttons on his shirt.

"What's going on?"

She was bound to keep prodding until he told her something, but he was saved from having to give any kind of response when muffled shouts could be heard on the other side of his door. It seemed to distract Hermione as she got off his bed and opened the door. It was coming from downstairs – and it sounded distinctly like Harry's voice. She couldn't make out exactly what he was saying yet, but one thing was for certain – he was extremely angry.

She made for the stairs to discover what was going on, and Ron was following right behind her, doing up the last of the buttons on his shirt.

Harry came back inside after only a short time had passed. He just needed some air to help clear his head. Now it was time to dive back into it all again. He came across Lupin sitting in the study, pouring over a handful of parchments spread out over the desk. He took a long drink from his mug, looking up as he heard Harry approach.

"You want to know if I got your test results," Lupin stated knowingly.

Harry nodded, taking a seat in one of the nearby armchairs.

Lupin shuffled together the papers he had been reading and put them away in the top drawer of the desk. "They were as Dumbledore and I suspected," he said, giving his full attention to Harry. "The results show your brain waves are well above the average human, but not nearly as high as an individual with full telekinetic or telepathic powers."

"So what does this mean?" Harry asked carefully.

Lupin looked thoughtful. "I don't think you have to worry about becoming a full-fledged telekinetic or telepath. And even though Voldemort has mastered Legilimency, I doubt you would ever experience that same power. However, you may begin to exhibit signs of an empath. Voldemort can read minds at times, but what he's strongest at is reading emotions and feelings. For Voldemort it's an asset, but I can see how it would be extremely distracting for you until you've learned to block it out.

"As you've inherited these abilities from Voldemort, I think it's more imperative than ever that you continue with Occlumency. There is no better way for you to learn how to control your own mind, as well as stop you from looking into others. I've been doing a bit of research and I could give you some additional mind exercises to practice, but I think it would be best if Professor Snape went back to teaching you."

"But you're just as good as Sn – Professor Snape," Harry protested. "And I don't end up passed out on the floor nearly as much."

"Harry, I completely understand your reluctance to work under Severus," said Lupin, sympathetically, "but you've exceeded the point where I believe I'm capable of teaching you. I don't think I should have been teaching you Occlumency in the first place. It was selfish on my part to go to Dumbledore and ask him to let me teach you when Professor Snape is one of the most powerful wizards when it comes to matters of the mind."

"I don't care that he's the best," Harry said, leaning forward, hands on knees. "I want _you_ teach me. Professor, your ten times a better wizard then Snape is."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I've already made my decision. I can't put you at risk like that, especially now with your new powers. There is nothing more important than preventing Voldemort from seeing into your mind, especially if he were to learn what you can do. The results would be far more disastrous than simply planting images in your mind while you're asleep."

Harry stood up, feeling quite angry. Everyone was always so busy trying to protect him, no one ever bothered to consider what he wanted. Lupin had always been different from the other adults in that respect, but even that had changed now.

"Harry, there's one more matter we need to discuss," Lupin said, stopping him from leaving.

Harry faced him, wondering what else Lupin had to say that could possibly ruin his night even more.

"It's about your going back to Hogwarts," he started.

"When is that going to happen? Hermione and I still have that hearing – "

"You're not going back, Harry," Lupin stated.

Harry stared at him with a complete look of bewilderment. He fought the urge to shout. "What do you mean I'm not going back?"

Lupin looked down at his hands, clearly dreading this conversation. "Hogwarts isn't safe for you anymore. There are very few Aurors not under investigation by Moody and they can't be spared to watch the school. Harry, Voldemort is going to want revenge for what happened. Lucius Malfoy was one of his closest and most loyal followers. He may not know how he died, but he'll know you had something to do with it."

"So what better way to protect me then hide me away like he did at the Dursley's for ten years," he said, his voice rising considerably.

"Harry, Dumbledore has good reason for wanting to protect you."

"Am I just supposed to sit around here all day, while everyone else gets to live their life? While Ron and Hermione get to go back to Hogwarts and forget all about me?" He shouted. "Sometimes I think I would have been better off with the Dursley's. At least there no one bothered to put up a fuss about me."

It made Lupin's heart ache to know that he was taking away one of the few things Harry had left, but he didn't have a choice. Dumbledore had made his decision clear. "Dumbledore didn't want to make this choice, Harry, but it was the one he had to make given the situation. He's had to make a lot of decisions over the years he hasn't liked in order to keep you safe."

"But I'm the one who has to live with it," Harry said, his voice bitter. "He thinks he's protecting me but all he's doing is making my life worse. He was so busy _protecting_ me it cost Sirius his life!"

"Hey, what's going on?" A new voice voice asked.

He and Lupin both turned, seeing Ron and Hermione standing in the hallway, looking confused as to what all the shouting was about.

Harry didn't bother answering. He made for the doorway.

"Harry, we need to – "

Lupin's voice stopped there and there was a scream from Hermione as the mug on his desk exploded into tiny pieces that landed everywhere. Harry didn't stick around after that. He charged out of the room and out the back door. The only reason he didn't slam it shut behind him was because he was afraid he would break that too.

As the grandfather clock in the study continued to tick closer to eleven o'clock, the closer Ron got to giving up on his mountainous pile of homework. He tried not to ask for Hermione's help too often, for she was even more buried in it, having missed all those weeks of school. She had been working furiously at it during most of the week, whether it be at St. Mungo's, at Grimmauld Place, and now in the study of the Lupin summer home.

"It's been hours," he said, dropping his quill. "We should check on Harry."

She stopped writing and looked at him. "You're just trying to avoid doing homework," she said in a knowing voice.

"Well, that too," he said, flashing her a wicked grin, "but I still think it would be a good idea if we checked on him."

Rather than argue, Hermione closed her Ancient Runes text, saying, "I think you're right. It feels strange anyways, sitting here doing schoolwork when Harry can't even go back to Hogwarts."

Ron felt the same way. School would definitely not be the same without Harry there. He hated the thought of leaving their friend all alone. He had wracked his brain for ways Harry would be allowed to go back, but as Hermione had carefully pointed out Dumbledore had made the decision, and no one in the Order would overrule him, with good reason. If they wanted Harry to be able to return to school, they would have to talk to Dumbledore themselves.

They left the house through the sliding back door, which led them out to the back porch. The small lanterns that hung on hooks near the gutter provided the only illumination. Harry was sitting hunched over on the steps. He gave no indication that he heard someone come outside. In fact he didn't speak at all until they sat on either side of him.

"All packed and ready to go back to Hogwarts?" He said, his tone harsh.

Instead of answering, Hermione said, "we'll talk to Dumbledore, Harry. There must be some way to make him change his mind."

"He left me with the Dursley's for ten years, so I don't think he's much for rethinking decisions."

"There's only four months left anyways," said Ron in an attempt to cheer him up. "Then there's the whole summer to figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out, Ron," he said, standing up. "It's safer for everyone if I stay here."

"Did Professor Lupin say that?" Hermione asked.

"He didn't have to. I'm the one Voldemort's after, and if I'm not around anyone, then no one else has to get hurt."

"Harry, you don't really believe that do, you?" Hermione questioned. "Voldemort may be after you, but he won't stop there. He plans on destroying everything in the wizarding world that opposes him.

"And what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"You really are in a self-pitying mood, aren't you?" She snapped at him. "You're going to do what you've done all along – fight for and protect the people you care about. And don't feed me some rubbish about being trapped here. There's still a lot you can do. You could even talk to Lupin about joining the Order."

"Hey, I – "

Hermione sent Ron a piercing look, and he fell silent. It was Harry's spirits she was trying to get up. He needed something to hope for.

"Snape's going to start teaching me Occlumency again," Harry said after a moment.

"How come?" Ron asked.

"The day you were released from St. Mungo's I had some tests done to see if I had any sort of telekinetic or other mind abilities, and it looks like I do," he said to them. "Lupin thinks Snape is the best person to teach me because Occlumency will help me control my abilities, so what happened earlier won't happen again."

"Er, you can't, um, read minds, can you?" Ron asked anxiously. If Harry could read his mind he would probably kill him for all the thoughts he had about Hermione going around in his head most of the time – and he wouldn't waste time looking for his wand to do it.

"No, I'm nowhere near that powerful. Lupin thinks the most I'll be able to do is read strong feelings and maybe project images in people's minds. But I can't do any of that yet," he added, seeing the looks of apprehension cross his friends faces. "My training with Snape is supposed to keep me from losing control over it." He didn't want to answer any more of their questions, because he already had many himself, with very few answers. "I think I'm going to bed," he announced suddenly.

He stopped just in front of the sliding doors, and it looked for a moment like he was going to say something, but then changed his mind and walked inside.

"It could have been worse. At least he didn't make all the lanterns shatter."

"Ron, that's not funny," she said with a glare. "I bet he feels horrible because he can't control his abilities yet. Not to mention he probably feels like we're abandoning him."

"We're not!" Ron cried. "It's not like we have a choice."

"I know that, and Harry knows that too, but it's hard for him not to see things that way." Hermione said to him. "Try looking at this from his perspective. What would either one of us think in the same situation?"

Ron's face turned into a frustrated expression, but it wasn't directed at Hermione. It was directed at everyone and everything that continued to wreck their lives. He had just got Hermione back and now he was being forced to leave his other best friend behind.

It was almost noon when Hermione ventured upstairs to Harry's room the next morning. Ron had come down about an hour earlier, and it did not seem likely Harry would follow anytime soon. Hermione didn't think it was a good idea to leave him shut up in his room all day because it would only serve to further corroborate his theory that he was being left behind and alone. He needed to know that they weren't just going to carry on with their lives and forget about him.

She had come up with the plan that she would go up and bring him the post, and then after about fifteen minutes would go back downstairs. That way it wouldn't seem like she was pressuring him into talking.

If she hadn't known for sure that Harry was upstairs, she would have sworn he had sat right across from her at breakfast, for Lupin was in a sullen mood and said very little. It was clear he didn't want to pull Harry out of Hogwarts, but was simply following orders. Hermione felt sorry for her old professor. Lupin was a good man, who was very obviously torn between duty and his desire to see Harry happy. She hoped Harry would see that too. Lupin was just the messenger, but had nothing to do with why Harry wasn't being allowed to return. Of course she couldn't say any of that to him. Harry would have to come to that realization on his own.

She knocked twice on his door and after patiently waiting for a response, but receiving none, said, "I know you're not sleeping, Harry." She paused, then said, "I'm coming in. I've got the post and there's something in it for you."

There came a rather dejected 'fine', and then she allowed herself to walk in.

He was sitting on his unmade bed, with his back against the wall and his knees up near his chest.

She handed him an envelope with the official Ministry of Magic seal on it. "I got one too," she said, as he read through the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Following the incident on the day of March the 2nd, you are hereby ordered to appear in front of a Ministry appointed panel tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. The Ministry will decide if you are guilty of breaking the decree of underage wizardry for the third time, as well as the severity of performing a sacrificial spell._

_Have a good day,_

_Sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

"That doesn't give us much time, does it?" He said, when he was done reading.

"The Ministry is in a sort of tangled mess right now," she told him. She handed him a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, where splashed across the front-page was the headline _New Minister of Magic Expected Soon_. Below there was a picture of a very disgruntled looking Cornelius Fudge.

"What's the article say?" He asked her. He up to reading anything the wizarding paper had to say, since his name had been splayed across the front cover for days now.

"Fudge has all but stepped down from his position as minister. The high council of the Ministry of Magic is asking for his resignation. It's only a matter of time before someone else is voted in. The whole fiasco with the Aurors was the last straw. No one trusts him anymore. Short of stopping Voldemort himself, nothing will get him back in the public's good graces."

"Is Ron's dad still being considered a candidate?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "He's one of a few on a very short list. Once a new minister is voted in, Fudge will have no choice but to relinquish power. They're supposed to unveil the official list of candidates by tomorrow."

Harry wanted to know how long it would take to elect a new minister once the candidates were announced, but the answer would probably result in an in-depth explanation, resulting in an even bigger headache then he already had. Instead he asked, "If we're found guilty, what will happen?"

"Expulsion, for one," she said, shifting uncomfortably, "but that will probably only happen if they find us guilty of the using the sacrificial spell."

"How can they not?"

"I haven't exactly figured that out yet," she admitted, "but there must be some sort of a defense we can come up with," she said in a determined voice. "I'm not too worried about underage magic charges because it was in self-defense, and everyone knows we were put in that situation because the Ministry's own Aurors endangered your life in the first place. We may have a much harder time convincing them of why we were performing a healing spell using magic stronger then most people can handle."

Harry wasn't really worried for himself. If the worse that could happen was expulsion, then it really wouldn't affect him, would it? On the other hand, Hermione's future could be riding on the outcome of their hearing. Though she tried not to sound too concerned, he knew she was probably extremely worried. That's why he asked if she wanted help with coming up with a defense. She looked extremely grateful for the help. He didn't have the heart to dampen her spirits by saying how slim the chances were of them finding something they could use in less than a day's time. They were in way over the heads, but it wasn't like the odds being stacked against them had ever stopped them before.


	26. The Hearing

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: The Hearing

Morning came much too fast for Hermione, who had been up with Harry much of the night trying to work out some sort of solid defense for themselves. There was no defense for breaking the underage magic decree, unless they convinced the panel the use of magic had been necessary to save someone's life. But then that would bring up the spell they had cast and that would certainly not be seen as an acceptable use of magic. Hermione had searched thoroughly but had found nothing stating that type of magic was illegal, but because it dealt with unimaginable power and potentially dark magic, it was openly forbidden by society, which was almost just as bad.

Lupin had gone through their options with them. If they pleaded guilty to the charges, the panel might be a bit more lenient with them because they were admitting their guilt, but they would not receive anything less than expulsion. If they pleaded not guilty, Lupin wasn't sure what the outcome would be, only that it would take a compelling case to convince the panel they were in fact innocent.

Ron stumbled out of bed at seven o'clock to wish them a bleary-eyed good luck and then they were off. They walked with Lupin for about half mile, before their former professor thought they were a safe enough distance away from the house and pulled out his wand. Seconds later the purple Knight Bus appeared and the three of them boarded it.

There were very few passengers aboard the Knight Bus this early in the day. There were two wizards in the back huddled together in conversation, and there was a single witch sitting near the front who was staring fixatedly at Harry before winking at him.

"It's Tonks," Hermione whispered in his ear.

Sure enough when Harry looked back at her, she grinned broadly at him before turning her attention back to the open copy of _Witch Weekly_ in her hands.

"Are you nervous?" Harry asked her.

"A little," she admitted, looking out the window, seeing the dizzying pace at which they passed everything.

"I already know I can't go back to Hogwarts. I'll tell them – "

"You're not going to tell them anything we didn't go over, Harry," she silenced him. She was not going to let him take all the blame for this, even when her school career and future were at stake. She sent him a look that said if he tried anything like that he was going to spend the rest of his life regretting it.

Much too soon they arrived at the Ministry. Tonks got off the bus with them, while the other two wizards remained onboard. The Knight Bus was off again before Harry's feet had barely touched the ground.

"Tonks will take you the rest of the way," Lupin said to them.

He tried to say it in an off hand sort of voice, but it wasn't that difficult to see how much it bothered him. For a place that prided itself on being fair and just, the Ministry of Magic was anything but that with its anti-werewolf laws.

Tonks guided the two of them to the broken down pay phone, and once she had entered the correct access code and announced who they were, the floor in the phone booth retracted and started taking them below ground.

"It's just a formal inquiry," Tonks was telling them as they hurried along a winding corridor. "They can't charge you with anything except breaking the underage magic rule. Anything else, and they'll have to conduct a full trial. Don't worry, it won't come to that," she added seeing their expressions.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.

"All I can tell you is that things are changing around here," she said cryptically but did not elaborate further.

Harry couldn't help but notice Tonks was making them take the long way to the courtroom. She had taken them on a path that would not lead them by the Department of Mysteries. Though she was trying to spare him from any unpleasant memories, just being in the ministry was painful enough for Harry.

They arrived outside a great pair of oak doors with brass knocker handles.

"I'll be here when you get out," Tonks told them. "It's going to be fine," she said reassuringly.

That did little to stop the massive anxiety that had been weighing in their stomachs all morning. The feeling multiplied the moment Harry turned the handle and they walked inside.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Harry and Hermione found they were the only occupants of the large room. In the dim lighting, they found their way to a large desk with a piece of parchment floating in front that read 'accused'. Shrugging, Harry sat down at it and Hermione joined him. They were seated directly in front of a massive bench that rose high above the floor. He estimated there was enough room to fit in eleven panel members.

Before he could begin fidgeting nervously, a door opened to their right. Eight wizards and three witches clothed in black robes filed inside simultaneously, each taking their designated seat on the bench. They wasted no time in getting things started.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger the charges against you are as follows: breaking the law of underage wizardry and performing an unpracticed form of a sacrificial spell," the ancient looking wizard in the center spoke. "A plea of not guilty has already been entered for you, so we will proceed."

Harry didn't look at Hermione but knew she must have been thinking the same as him. Who would have entered a plea for them? There was no time to dwell on it because the lead panel member was already moving on.

"On the night in question, you both disregarded the underage wizarding laws and used magic against several different individuals on a reoccurring basis. Your statements to the Auror Alastor Moody, were that the magic was used in self defense against a group of Death Eaters, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," they both answered simultaneously.

"Is it also correct that Ron Weasley suffered a life threatening injury at the hands of Lucius Malfoy, and you used a restricted spell to save his life?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you also aware that any restoration or sacrificial magic is restricted for use because the effects are far too unstable to predict?"

"Yes, sir."

"And yet your disregarded that knowledge and performed a spell well beyond the capabilities of someone even twice your age, ignoring the potentially damaging effects the spell could have had on the victim as well as yourselves."

This was not going well at all. Judging by the hardened looks on the panel members faces, they already had their minds made up and they were only proceeding with this inquiry because it was procedure.

"Unlike your predecessors, you were able to perform it correctly," the wizard continued, "saving Ronald Weasley's life in the process."

There were mumbled murmurings among the panel members and each one of their expressions changed. They were now staring at Harry and Hermione in a sort of awe.

"It is the opinion of this panel that you both be found not guilty of performing illicit magic and guilty of the charge of breaking the wizarding decree for underage magic. This session is now adjourned."

The panel members stood up one by one and filed out of the door they entered from.

In a stunned state, Harry and Hermione left as well, finding Tonks waiting where she had left them.

"Well?" She prompted them, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "How'd it go?"

"They found us guilty of breaking the underage wizarding decree but not guilty of performing forbidden magic," said Harry both astounded and confused.

"Told you it would all work it," she to them, grinning in triumph.

"I don't understand," Hermione said in disbelief. "How could they find us guilty of that but not the other charge, which was clearly much more severe."

"Let's just say the ministry has had a change of heart where Voldemort's concerned these days."

"It was Dumbledore who entered the plea of not guilty for us, wasn't it?" Hermione said knowingly.

Tonks nodded. "With Fudge finally on the way out, the ministry is doing what it can to make up for the way it's treated Dumbledore – and Harry for that matter – these last couple of years. They couldn't let you go without any sort of punishment, but if they had found you guilty of the forbidden magic charge it would go on your permanent records. The underage magic charge will disappear once you're seventeen."

Harry was still marveling at how lucky they had been, while Tonks was already leading them out of the sparse hallway and back to the lift. He still had not fully gotten over his anger at Dumbledore, and maybe never would, but he couldn't deny he was grateful for what the Headmaster had done for them, especially for Hermione. Unlike him, she had a bright future that would have been tarnished with a charge like that on her record.

They picked up their wands from the security wizard in the atrium and then made the short trek back up to the surface.

They stepped out from the phone booth, finding the cloud cover from early morning had dissipated, replaced by bright sunlight. Lupin was standing a short distance away, as if he had known they would emerge from the ministry at that exact moment.

He was not alone. Another man stood with him, his identity unmistakable to Hermione. That man was her father.

They sat on the patio of a small muggle café, their tea barely touched and almost cold now. Her father had said very little up to this point, and Hermione hadn't offered much more than one or two word responses. It was like two people who were almost strangers had sat down for tea, instead of a father and daughter who had been in each other's lives for sixteen years.

Harry had wanted to stay but Tonks had taken him back to the summer home. Lupin had stayed, but he was keeping a respectful distance away at another table so the two could talk in private.

"Mr. Lupin was attempting to explain to me that you and Harry were in some kind of a court proceeding this morning. That this Ministry of Magic was going to charge you with breaking their laws."

"It's more complicated than that, dad," she tried explaining to him. "You don't have all the facts. What we did we didn't have a choice."

"I don't need to have all the facts to know my daughter could have gone to jail today."

"Dad, that never – "

"Hermione, these are exactly the sort of things I was trying to protect you from. You have the chance at a brilliant future but here you are throwing that all away."

She was finding it increasingly hard not get angry at him. He had no right to tell her she was throwing her future away when he was talking about things he didn't understand. And she most certainly wouldn't classify saving Ron's life as throwing her future away.

"We've been through this already, dad," she said, her patience wavering. "My life is here now. I'm not throwing anything away if this is what I want to do with it."

"Do you know what I went through when I came home and found you gone? I feared for you life. I thought they had reached us even all the way in Luxembourg. Then one of _them_ showed up at my door and said your were safe in Britain. They wouldn't even let me come after you because they said it wasn't safe. For days I had to sit around wondering if you would meet the same fate as your mother."

"I'm sorry," she said, her tone losing all her anger. She knew what running away would do to him, but she also knew what it was doing to her living in that house.

"Hermione, all your mum and I ever wanted was what was best for you. We worried constantly about your safety here the last couple of years, and now it's quite clear to me you'll never be safe here – that you're quite literally a target. And that's why I'm begging you to leave here with me."

"Dad, I can't," she said, her voice starting to choke up, "and you can't force me to either."

"No, I suppose I can't," He said, looking to have expected that response from her. "I'm going back to Luxembourg tomorrow," he started slowly. "I don't intend to come back. So if you still want to stay it's your choice."

He was making her chose between the two things no one should ever have to choose from – the life they want or their family. He was asking the impossible of her, even when they both already knew what her answer would be.

He pushed his chair back and stood up, dropping several small bills onto the table. He didn't say anything – didn't even look at her as he walked away.

She had no voice to shout at him to stop, to make him understand that she couldn't bear to lose him too. But he kept walking, becoming a blurry spec as her tears completely clouded her vision.

"Is everything all right here?" The voice of the waiter asked.

She couldn't answer him. She just wished that he and everyone else there would disappear and leave her alone.

"We're fine. Would you mind grabbing us two more teas?" Lupin said to the man. While he left with their order, Lupin pulled out a handkerchief from inside his jacket and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, using it to dry her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to become a public spectacle in front of all these people that knew nothing about her or her life.

"He'll realize eventually what a mistake he's making," he said gently.

"I don't know about that," she responded, her voice still quivering.

"He's just lived through every parent's nightmare – not knowing where their child is or if they're safe. And he's still grieving for your mother. Once he's had a chance to live through the decision he's made, he'll know the last thing he wants is to live without his only daughter."

"Professor, I – " she stopped herself and shook her head. More than anything she wanted to believe what he was saying, but that was a difficult thing to do when her heart was screaming something completely different at her.

Harry was lying in the den, listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless, but not really hearing the commentator excitedly shout about the brilliant goal scored by the Puddlemere chaser, making the ninety Point Puddlemere comeback complete. When he heard the front door open he got up to investigate.

Lupin and Hermione were removing their cloaks when he joined them in the hall. Judging by the somber looks on both their faces he knew the meeting with her father had not gone well.

"Tonks came back and brought some food by," was all he could think of to say. He didn't want to put her on the spot by asking her how it had gone with her father.

"I'm not really hungry," she said to him. "I think I might actually take a nap."

"Are you okay?" He asked her.

She nodded and gave him a brief smile, but he had known her too long to take that at face value. He didn't want to push though, so he let her walk upstairs without another word.

When he was positive she was out of earshot, he said to Lupin, "is she really okay?"

"Not at the moment, but she will be," he replied, moving into the kitchen. He used his wand to set the kettle boiling. While he poured the steaming water into a mug he said, "something on your mind, Harry?"

There was always something on his mind, but right then there was just one thing in particular he wanted to speak to Lupin about.

"I want to enlist in the Auror program."

Lupin put the kettle down and turned around. "How much have you thought about this?"

"At school, the majority of my classes were requirements for becoming an Auror. I mean besides Quidditch the only other thing I'm actually good at is Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That's not true, Harry. But you also need a lot more then just defense skills, no matter how highly skilled you are at them. I'm sure Moody's engrained in your brain how hard the Auror program is just to get into."

"I know they make you take these tests before they'll even consider you for training. And of the few people that make it into the program, even fewer qualify to become Aurors."

"I'm not even sure they would consider you given your age, not to mention that you haven't graduated. They've never taken on anyone who didn't achieve NEWT level marks."

"I know all that," said Harry, slightly frustrated, "but I can't stay locked up in this house while everyone else gets to live their life, and with all those Aurors that got dismissed for their involvement in what happened with me, I don't think the Ministry can afford to pass any candidate up. Dumbledore thinks it's too dangerous for me at Hogwarts. Well, the only way I can make sure what happened with Lucius Malfoy doesn't happen again is if I'm properly trained." He never wanted to be caught that vulnerable or powerless again. He never wanted to relive the horrible nightmare of his friends being tortured because they had come to his aid. "You can't ask me to stay here and do nothing, while the Order is out risking their lives for me every day."

"The Order is risking their lives for the entire wizarding world, not just you Harry," Lupin reminded him. "I'll talk to Alastor and see what he says," he said after a moment's consideration. "But I can't promise you anything, Harry. Even if Moody can help, you would still have to have Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, until he feels you're strong enough to protect your mind yourself."

He was going to hate working with Snape again, but he knew Lupin would be good on his word, and since Moody was always telling them they needed to be able to protect themselves if the need arose, he didn't think the Auror would be against his decision either.


	27. Close To Home

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Close To Home

As soon as Tonks had come by Grimmauld Place with the news of Harry and Hermione's hearing, Ron had wanted to go back to Lupin's to see them. He had wanted to be there when they had gotten back, but his father had let it slip the last time they had spoke that his mother was disappointed he had not come to see her since being released from St. Mungo's. At least his mother understood his desire to see his friends and didn't begrudge him for wanting to leave after only being at Grimmauld Place a short while.

When he saw Harry, he didn't look like a person relieved to have gotten off the hook relatively easy. That might have had something to do with the fact that he and Hermione were set to leave for Hogwarts the day after tomorrow.

When he went upstairs to see Hermione, the door to her room was shut, but he didn't think she was sleeping like Harry said she might be, because he could see light escaping through the crack under the door. He raised his fist to knock and then stopped. If she was in there with the door shut in the middle of the afternoon she probably didn't want to see anyone.

"You can come in, Ron," her voice sounded from the other side.

He opened the door, giving her a rather astounded look. "That's a bit scary, you know. How did you know I wasn't Harry or Lupin?"

She shrugged. "I didn't." She marked her place in the book she was reading before placing it on her nightstand. He sat down on the armchair beside it, watching her from where she sat cross-legged on the bed.

"Tonks told me what happened. I guess Dumbledore really comes through when you need him."

"I suppose he does," she said in a deadpan voice.

"Do you want to talk about your dad?" He asked gently. He already knew most of what had transpired from talking with Lupin and Harry. He may not be the most sensitive bloke in the world but he knew she needed to talk about it, even if she might not want to.

"There's not much to say really," she said, picking at the covers on her bed.

"You might feel better if you did," he gently prodded.

"Ron." She said his name warningly; as if she were telling him this was not a subject she was willing to discuss at the present time.

"_Hermione_." He said her name with much more exaggeration and it had the desired effect. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"Come here," he said to her, and she did. She got off the bed and went to sit on his lap in the chair. She snuggled in close to his chest while he wrapped an arm around her.

"He wanted me to choose between him and my life here," she told him. "I want to believe I made the right choice, but after everything he's been through how could I just abandon my own father like that?"

"You didn't abandon anyone," he said, letting his hand come to rest on hers. "He wanted you to give up everything you knew and just start over."

"Maybe I was being selfish," she said, absently running her fingers up and down his bare arm. "All I could think about was the things I wanted. I should have considered what he was feeling more carefully."

"Hey," he said, touching her cheek and forcing her to look at him, "you made the right decision. If anyone was being selfish it was your dad. He was the one who made you choose. If he really wanted what was best for you he never would have done that."

She wondered how and when Ron had become an expert at saying the right things when she needed to hear them most. He lifted some of the guilt she was feeling, but the thought that she might never get to speak to her dad again was almost too much to bear. She had tried being angry with him but that hadn't worked. At least that way she wouldn't have cared so much.

She hadn't talked openly with Ron about her mother's death yet, and she still wasn't sure that was a topic she was ready to touch. But just having Ron there and knowing he would be there when she was ready to talk was a deep comfort to her.

"Wasn't today the day the ministry unveiled the official list of Minister candidates?"

She felt him nod. "They announced it over the wireless this morning. Dad and seven other blokes got named."

"That's really great, Ron. Your mum must be excited," she said, moving her head so she could look at him.

Ron chuckled. "Excited? She was a bloody basket case. If my dad really gets in she's going to cry herself dry."

Voices could suddenly be heard conversing downstairs in loud tones – not loud enough to be shouting, but to the point where something was obviously going on.

She considered just getting up and shutting her door, hoping it would block the noise out, since she and Ron had had so few opportunities to be alone together lately.

He was obviously thinking the same thing because he buried his face in her hair and groaned. "I'm starting to think we would have had a better shot of being alone if we were at Grimmauld Place."

"Let's just go see what it is and once we learn it's not a life or death situation we'll come right back up, deal?"

He wanted to say couldn't they just pretend they hadn't hear anything, and if it was important someone would come get them, but she was already moving off his lap and towards the door.

Ron reminded himself that normal people didn't raise their voices for no reason and that the odds of Hermione and himself coming back upstairs to be alone were slim to none.

They could see Harry already at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze shifting between Tonks and Moody who were stationed by the door.

"Remus, make sure they stay here. Under no circumstances are they to leave this house," Ron could hear Tonks saying.

Harry started to protest but Moody cut in sharply. "Potter, if you take so much as a step out of this house you're going to wish the Dark Lord found you because it's going to be nothing compared to the shit you'll be in with me."

"What the hell's going on?" Ron said, knowing that he was missing something important.

When the adults hesitated, Harry turned to his friends. "A few hours ago there was an attack at Hogsmeade."

Ron turned to Moody. "How bad?"

"We don't have all the details yet. All we know for sure is that a group of Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade while Hogwarts students were visiting there. The casualty reports are just starting to come in."

"I don't think it's necessary for you to tell them about casualties, Alastor," spoke up Lupin, "when you don't even know yourself what happened."

"They need to know the severity of the situation," Moody said, undaunted. "Which is why the three of them must stay here. Let the Aurors do their jobs."

"What about Ginny?" Ron asked, his face pale.

"There's no news yet on anyone who was in Hogsmeade at the time of the attack. We'll find your sister, Weasley, but you need to stay put. As soon as we have word we'll let you know." Then he nodded to Lupin, and he and Tonks stepped out the front door and disappeared.

"They'll find Ginny, Ron," Hermione said in a soothing voice. "She'll be all right." She took his hand and held it in both of hers.

Despite Hermione's reassurances, with the way things had been going lately, they could not be sure of anything anymore. He looked over at Harry, who gave the appearance of being severely frustrated at having being told to sit still and do nothing. For the first time in his life he understood what it was like to be Harry Potter. To be told to stay put and let others handle the problem – feeling completely helpless because there was not a thing he could do. He hated feeling like Harry.

Four hours later Ron was alone in his room pacing. He had given up sitting downstairs with everyone else an hour earlier. Now that he was upstairs, the sound of rain pelting down against the house was much easier to hear.

He had known that pacing would only build anxiety in the already tense house, so had retreated up to his room to be free to do whatever he wanted to ease the worry he was feeling for his sister's safety.

There was still no word from Moody or anyone else about survivors. A deep chill went through him at the thought of _survivors_. Moody had said there would be casualties and that meant there would be deaths. He didn't know what he would do if one of those deaths was Ginny. Rather darkly he thought Harry had no parents, Hermione had lost her mum and he might not have a sister anymore.

Pacing no longer had the effect of keeping him from jumping out of his skin. He considered throwing things at his wall when he heard the front screen door creaking open.

He ran out of his room and down the stairs, arriving even before Lupin, Harry and Hermione, who had been much closer to the door. Moody stood in the doorframe, soaking wet.

"Did you find Ginny?" He asked frantically.

Moody pushed the soaking hood of his robe off his face. "Other than some scrapes and bruises she's fine. That tough Weasley exterior protected her from the worst of it."

"Where is she now, Alastor?" Said Lupin.

"Probably getting checked out from St. Mungo's as we speak. Molly is with her."

Ron's face paled. "I thought you said she was fine. What's she doing – "

"She is fine," Moody cut him off. "They just moved anyone who was in Hogsmeade at the time of the attack to St. Mungo's because we couldn't take the chance that Hogwarts wasn't a target as well."

"What about the students still at the school?" Hermione asked.

"They're being sent home. As powerful as the magic is surrounding Hogwarts it's too much of a target and Dumbledore isn't taking any chances. For the time being Hogwarts is closed. But it won't be made official for a few days, so you'd best keep that news to yourselves for now."

For Ron, that news hit almost as hard as learning Ginny had been involved in a Death Eater attack. When he looked over at Hermione, she seemed to be in the same state of shock and disbelief as him. Harry was the only one who spoke.

"How bad were there injuries?"

"Some minor, others more severe," Moody told him. "The Three Broomsticks was hit the hardest."

"Was anyone killed?" Harry didn't look at the others, not wanting to see the looks on their faces as he asked the question. He kept his gaze focused solely on the Auror.

"They're not releasing any of the names until all the appropriate guardians have been contacted," Moody answered.

Harry felt sick. He still couldn't look at anyone. How many other people's lives would be shattered because of Voldemort?

"Tonks is bringing Ginny here," Moody continued. "Molly and Arthur have already been told she's safer here."

Moody spent the next few minutes conversing with Lupin discussing the whereabouts of certain members of the Order, before taking off again into the rain.

It wasn't until close to midnight when Tonks finally arrived with Ginny. The rain had finally stopped by then. Ginny had a gash above her right eye and a large bruise on her cheekbone but those were the extent of her visible injuries. Ron embraced her first, while Harry hung back.

"Dennis Creevy's dead," she told them, her voice small. "I didn't even get to see Colin before his parents took him away."

Harry, who had been staring at her since she arrived, chose that moment to turn away. He could feel the sadness and pain radiating from her like a beam of light he couldn't escape.

"Ginny, I've got some dry clothes you could put on," Hermione said to her, using the same soothing voice she had spoken to Ron in earlier.

Ginny nodded and Hermione helped her upstairs.

Harry watched them go until he felt Lupin tug at his arm. Harry let himself be pulled into the kitchen, while Tonks and Ron conversed in the hallway.

"This may not be the best time for this, but there may never be a right time." Lupin reached inside his robes and removed a rolled up piece of parchment. He handed it to Harry saying, "after we spoke – and before any of this happened – I got in touch with Alastor and told him you wanted to start Auror training. If this is still want you want, fill out this application and then give it back to Moody to hand in to the Ministry. They'll process it and then make you go through a series of standardized tests designed for someone who has achieved NEWT level standings in the prerequisite courses. If you're sure you want to do this, I'll do what I can to help you prepare for it."

Harry scanned the application form in his hands and then looked back up at Lupin. The older man seemed torn between wanting to protect Harry and allowing him to live his own life, which meant entering one of the most dangerous wizarding professions one could have.

"Whatever you decide, Harry, I'll support decision," Lupin said to him. "But choosing the path of an Auror is not one to be made lightly. If you're not sure in your heart this is what you want to do, you shouldn't do it."

The list of things Harry was sure about seemed to grow smaller every day – becoming an Auror was on that list. He couldn't explain to Lupin that his reasoning behind it was because he knew it would be the only way he would become a full participant in the war effort. He would want Harry to make the choice for himself, not based on other people. For Harry, there would be no more sitting still, waiting around for Voldemort to continuing destroying the lives of those he cared about. That was why he had to – no, _needed_ to make it through the training and become an Auror.


	28. It's My Life

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: It's My Life

The only thing that Ron wouldn't miss with Hogwarts closed was homework. He had thought the workload in fifth year was unbearable, but it was twice as bad this year. He had been looking forward to an extended summer this year when Hermione got the idea in her head to complete her Hogwarts studies there at the Lupin summer home. She tried explaining that Lupin was a qualified teacher, and as such was more than competent to teach all but a few subjects. Lupin, being the accommodating person that he was, had agreed to teach her if that was what she really wanted. Once his mother had gotten wind of what Hermione was doing, she wanted both him and his sister to do the same. So now instead of having all this free time on his hands, he was being forced back in to lessons. He had been quite annoyed by it when Hermione had first thought it up, but having Lupin as their only teacher would have its merits. He wouldn't have to deal with Snape or the Slytherins, and since Lupin was a fair and easy going person he might get good marks for a change.

Now that Ginny was staying with them, he and Harry were back to sharing a room as they had at Grimmauld Place. He didn't mind that the girls each got their own room. Harry had been his dorm mate for almost six years, and the room they were sharing now was larger than his own room back at The Burrow. Hermione had also been quick to point out that she still had her own room, so it wouldn't be any harder than before to find time alone together. He liked her way of thinking.

He was in his room now, searching through the disarray of clothes and other assorted items that were scattered throughout, trying to find his Transfiguration notes. Hermione was in this mad rush to make up for all the school she had missed. She was attempting to cram two months of learning into two weeks. For the most part, he was indulging her obsessive need to catch up on school work, because he knew how important school was to her – even if he didn't understand it – and with Hogwarts closed for the time being, he didn't want her to lose out on that. Of course he wouldn't have been Ron Weasley if he didn't tease her now and again about it. Secretly, he thought that she enjoyed it, probably because it helped to maintain a sense of normality about their lives, even when everything going on around them was anything but normal.

He looked under the last remaining pile of clothes, but didn't find his Transfiguration notebook. His notes were never that good to begin with, so he figured he might as well give her Harry's – at least his were legible. He didn't think his friend would mind either.

Harry's side of the room could be described as polar opposite from Ron's. Clothes were not strewn about every which way, his floor was clean and the bed was made. If Ron hadn't seen with his own eyes the conditions he had been forced to grow up in, he would have found it extremely odd that he was so neat. Harry didn't generally leave things lying around, so he was going to have to open each drawer until he found what he was looking for.

The third drawer he opened he thought he found what he was looking for, but they turned out to be Defense Against the Arts textbooks that probably Sirius or Lupin had given him as a gift one year. He almost shut the drawer and moved on to the next, when something on the cover caught his eye: _Defense Against the Dark Arts: Advanced NEWT level Magic, a prerequisite for Auror training_. He pulled that book out of the drawer and read the title off of the one beneath it: _Shield Charms, Disarming Spells, Befuddling Your Enemy, and Everything Else You Need to Defend Yourself Against Dark Magic_. In small letters underneath the title it said _required reading for Auror trainees_. He looked back in the drawer to see what else was in there and found a single folded piece of parchment. He had never before invaded Harry's privacy, and he knew how wrong it was to go through his best friend's belongings, but a feeling in his gut told him to read that parchment. Once he had, he tore through the room and down the stairs, the piece of parchment clutched tightly in his fist – the Transfiguration notes forgotten.

It had been two days since Ginny had come to stay at Lupin's. And in that time she had endured watching Harry walk on eggshells around her or just flat out avoid her altogether. It didn't take a genius to figure out why. Even though the attack on Hogsmeade had nothing to do with him he still felt responsible for it somehow. She didn't know how it was possible for one person to carry around so much guilt without exploding.

She had managed to corner him into a game of chess when he walked into the study and saw her sitting in there. Though Harry was a fairly decent chess player, she could have beaten him easily, but that wasn't what she had in mind. It wasn't that she wanted to toy with him, but as soon as they finished their game he would probably retreat upstairs to his room, where he had been spending most of his time since her arrival.

"I'm sorry you have to share a room with Ron now that I'm here," she said, watching one of her pieces move forward.

Harry, who was contemplating his next move, said, "it's not a big deal. Besides I've spent the last six years listening to him snore at night, so it won't be any different here," he said, looking up and grinning at her.

She returned the grin. It was good to see him smiling again.

"You could have beaten me three moves back," he stated, locking his green eyes on her.

Perhaps everything wasn't going as well as she thought. "You noticed that, huh?"

"I may not be as good as you or Ron, but I know when someone's deliberately avoiding taking my queen. What are you playing at, Gin?"

"I just thought it might be nice if I didn't slaughter you for a change."

"So it's a pity game, then?"

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. Leave it to Harry to twist her words like that. "I _don't_ pity you, and nobody else does for that matter. If anything, people feel empathy and sympathy towards you, and there's nothing wrong with that."

A scowl planted itself on his face, but she didn't say anything more. It would do no good to tell him wasn't responsible for the Hogsmeade attack. All it would do was make him more defensive. If he didn't believe something himself there was no point in telling him otherwise.

"Can we just finish the game?" He said his jaw clenched.

If he was going to be like this that was fine. She was going to give it right back to him. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"Wh – what are you talking about?" He stammered.

"Since I got here you've acted like nothing would please you more than to have me gone."

He stared down at the chessboard, where the pieces were starting to mutter impatiently now that the game seemed to be put on hold. "I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. That wasn't my intention."

"So what was your intention?" She dared to ask.

"Ginny…" he trailed off and shook his head. "All right, I didn't want you here. I didn't want you anywhere near me," he said, his voice rough. "Because I don't want what happened with Ron and Hermione to ever happen to you."

His eyes bore into hers and she didn't know if she should slap him or – she quickly nixed all the _or_ possibilities out of her mind. He was worried about protecting her. He was always so concerned about everyone else. It was one of the qualities she lov – admired about him. There could never be another person like Harry Potter.

Ron swept into the room then, moving so quickly he was standing in front of the two of them before Ginny could blink. He slammed a piece of parchment down on the chessboard, scattering the pieces everyone, which shouted and cursed at him from all over the floor.

"Do you mind telling me what the fuck this is?" He glared accusingly at Harry.

Ginny couldn't see what it was exactly because it was upside down, but it appeared to be an application of sorts.

"So you're snooping through me things now, is that it?" Harry said in a dangerous voice.

"Maybe you're just not that great at hiding things," Ron shot back. "When were you going to tell us about this? Or were you just going to wait until they brought you home in a fucking body bag?"

"Ron, what are you on about?" Ginny intervened.

"Harry here has decided he's becoming an Auror and didn't bother to tell anyone," he informed her.

"I don't need to clear my decisions with you," Harry said, standing up.

"You're right, you don't. But you could have at least told your best friends about this life-altering choice you were making. Dammit, Harry, you knew I wanted to join the Auror program, but you were just going to keep me in the dark about this."

How could he explain to a very angry Ron that becoming an Auror was a path he had to take, while Ron had other options? Ron would never accept that as an answer. "I didn't tell you because I knew you would want to join."

"Of course I'd join! Do you think I would let you do this alone?"

As much as he was touched by Ron's fierce loyalty he could not let him make a choice like this. "Ron, please try and understand. I can't let you do this for me."

"Do you really think you stand a chance of stopping either one of us?" Hermione's calm voice sounded from the doorway, where she had one eyebrow arched at Harry.

Both boys whirled around, and though they had been arguing on opposite sides just moments ago, they were in agreement on one thing – Hermione was not becoming an Auror.

"Hermione, you are not entering the Auror program," Harry said, his tone resolute.

"You can't tell me what to do, Harry," she said defiantly.

"He's right, Hermione," Ron said to her. "You're not doing this. That's final."

"You do not make my decisions for me, Ronald Weasley," she said crossly.

"I bloody well can about this because Harry and I are not going to let you throw your life away, just so you don't feel left behind."

That hit a little too close to home for her. Her father had said those exact words about throwing her life away, and hearing them spoken by Ron was too much. He was being an arrogant and selfish prat, and if he thought he could tell her what she could and could not do with her life he was sorely mistaken.

She pointed an accusatory finger at Ron and then Harry. "I don't need either one of your permission to decide what I want to do with my life. So learn to live with it," she said hotly and bolted from the room.

"Hermione, stop!" Ron called after her.

"This isn't open for discussion," she said over her shoulder.

She walked into the sunroom and he followed her in there, closing the screen door and putting up a silencing charm to keep the rest of the house's occupants from hearing them.

"Would you just hear me out?" He said in exasperation.

"No, I won't," she said, placing both hands on her hips and glaring at him, "because you're just going to feed me some rubbish about how women don't belong in the Auror program because they don't have the same strength or mentality as men."

"Don't turn this into some witches right bullshit," he snapped at her. "I know Tonks is a good Auror, and I never said or even thought women couldn't be Aurors."

"So it's not women in general, then? It's just me you think incapable of handling it?" She said, throwing him an icy stare.

He threw his hands up in frustration. "That's not what I meant! Stop putting words in my mouth, or do you think I'm so stupid I can't even speak for myself?"

Not once had she thought Ron to be stupid. He was really quite bright when he decided to apply himself, but she was far too angry to tell him any of that then. "Then what do you mean? Why won't you let me do this?"

He laced his hands through the back of his neck and looked at her anxiously. "Because…"

"That's not an answer," she said when he didn't continue. "And if that's all you've got we're through here." She tried to brush passed him but he grabbed her arm and held her there.

"Do you have any idea how brilliant you are?" He said, his eyes penetrating hers. "All that school you missed and you've been sitting out here learning two months of lessons without any help from anyone. You asked Lupin to continue teaching you what we haven't learned yet, when you could probably stand there and teach it to the rest of us. I know how hard you worked to be the top of the class at everything, and the only reason I tease you about any of it is because I'm jealous. I know I will never be as smart as you, and every day I worry that you're going to wake up and realize you deserve to be with someone who appreciates all that instead of punishing you for it."

He released his grip on her arm, gauging her face for any sort of reaction, but she was so moved and touched by his words she wasn't sure what to say. Damn him! She was supposed to be angry with him and fighting for the choice she should be allowed to make and he was making it a damn near impossible thing to do.

"I don't want to see you throw all that away because you feel the need to prove a point," he added, staring down at his feet.

"This isn't about proving a point," she said, her voice dropping back to a normal octave. "It's about doing what's right. I can't stay here while you and Harry are off risking your lives battling Death Eaters and Voldemort. I won't stand by and do nothing to help my friends. That's not who I am, Ron."

He was looking at her, and she could almost see his brain working as he tried to come up with ways to convince her otherwise. She wasn't going to let him get that far.

"My dad said those exact words about throwing my life away," she began slowly. "But what you and him don't understand is that it's just that – _my life_, and I'm free to do with it as I please. You said he was being selfish for making me choose between him and the wizarding world. Well you're being just as selfish for trying to make me choose between what I want and what _you_ think I should want." She hadn't said any of it to hurt him, but he had to know that she was not going to budge on the Auror issue. And the sooner he accepted that the sooner things would be better for all of them.

She left him standing in the sunroom, hoping that when she saw him next he would have accepted her decision. If not, it was going to be a very long summer for all of them.

_Hey folks, I know things are getting really angsty and depressing but that's what happens in war. I do promise that things will get happier near the end of the story, which isn't too far off now. Thanks for all your encouraging reviews up to this point!_


	29. Deception

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Deception

"No, no, no – absolutely not," said a firm Bill Weasley, from where he sat in the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. "I'm not going to be a part of this."

"Why the bloody hell not?" Ron snapped.

"Because even if you don't have any moral qualms about lying to Hermione – I do. I can't believe you would deceive her like that, and I especially can't believe _you're_ going along with it," said Bill, glancing pointedly at Harry.

"Spare me the 'I'm-the-oldest-therefore-I'm the wisest routine. It's an old act, Bill. I bet the only one who still falls for it is mum."

"You would be wise to listen to me, little brother," said an irritated Bill. "Because if Hermione even knew we were having this conversation she would kill you."

"Look, all I want to know is if you could get a job for her at Gringotts or something – "

"So she won't join the Auror program?" He finished, arching an eyebrow at Ron. "You really are a dickhead, you know that? You feed me some cock and bull story about wanting Hermione to have all the opportunities available to her when this is really about you trying to protect her from what's out there," he said, gesturing emphatically to the window. "In case you haven't noticed, she's up to her neck in all of this just as much as the two of you. She's already lost too much and you want to take away her right to fight with the rest of us because you think it will keep her safe. Wake up, Ron, being an Auror may be a dangerous job but the way things are going none of us may be safe for much longer. At least if she gets into the program she'll have a way of defending herself and those around her."

"Dammit, Bill are you going to help me or not?" Ron growled at him.

"Even if I wanted to I still wouldn't help you. Sure, I could probably get her a job at the bank no problem. Hell, she'd probably be running the bloody place before she's twenty-five, but that's not what Hermione wants. And the sooner you accept what she does want, the easier it will be on you. Because if you do anything to stop her from joining the Auror program and she finds out about, she'll hate you forever – both of you," he added, turning his glare on Harry because he knew him to have more sense than Ron most of the time, and he was probably the only one who could talk Ron out of this. Then he pushed back from the table and left.

A long silence stretched between them before Harry finally said, "Bill's right. We can't do this to her."

Ron had come to Grimmauld Place with Harry, knowing that Bill would be there and hoping that his oldest brother would understand and want to help them. But no, Bill had been a bloody wanker about the whole thing and now they would go back to Lupin's not any better off than before. "Harry, we're not deceiving her, we're just not being entirely honest. Let's face it, Hermione would be much happier with a desk job then being out in the rain chasing down Death Eaters every hour of the day and night. All the reading and researching she does now, she would be in her element at the Ministry. She deserves to be happy, Harry, and if we were still at Hogwarts she would be working towards a career in the Ministry. She deserves better than all of this and she's too smart for us to let her do this."

Harry was still uneasy about the whole thing. As much as he wanted to make sure Hermione had the career she deserved, he didn't feel right making the choice for her – and behind her back no less. Ron didn't feel any better about it, but there was nothing Harry or anyone else could say to make him change his mind. Bill may have refused to help, but there was still one other person Ron could go to.

There were few things more relaxing to Harry then being on a broom a hundred feet or more in the air. It had been weeks since he had last been on one, and that's why he had eagerly agreed when Ron suggested they play a game of pickup in the backyard. They had asked Ginny to join them and two hours later they were still in the air. Harry knew it was getting to the point where he and Ron should get back to studying, but they had done nothing but study for the Auror exam for almost two weeks, and as much as Harry wanted to do well he needed a break before his head exploded. He still had the entire weekend to memorize everything from disarming charms to counter jinxes before he sat the exam Monday morning at nine o'clock. Once he was done with the theory part, he would be forced to endure extensive physical testing. He didn't think he had even studied this hard for his O.W.L.s, when those had been equally as important. But with the Auror testing there were no second chances. If he screwed up and failed he would not get another shot at it.

Lupin had explained to him a dozen times that the test was designed for someone who had a completed magical education and that the information covered on it would be thorough. Lupin had provided him, Ron and Hermione with stack after stack of books that he thought would prove useful to them. He had also been working closely with them on the spells and curses that normally wouldn't show up before seventh year. He even had them brewing antidotes to poisons and other magical ailments that had been known to appear on the exam.

Hermione was still harboring some resentment towards him and Ron about the whole Auror thing. She would give them help when they asked for it, but outside of their Auror studies she hadn't said much to either one of them. Maybe he and Ron had blown the whole Auror thing a bit out of proportion, but he did agree with Ron that Hermione deserved something resembling a normal life – something she would never get as an Auror. More than anything she was probably waiting for Ron to apologize, but it seemed more likely the Chudley Cannons would win the Quidditch World Cup before that happened.

Someone cheering and whooping with delight brought him out of his reverie. Since Ron was the first to touch down on the grass, he had a feeling the victory had been Ginny's.

"Ron, I know you haven't been on a broom in a while, but that last attempted save was kind of pathetic," Ginny said, coming to land beside her brother.

"I bet I can count on both hands the number of shots you missed in the last five minutes," He retorted.

She punched him in the arm. "Those were warm-up shots," she clarified.

"Right," he said sarcastically. "Well, that explains everything. All those matches you've played you've been taking warm up shots the entire time."

Harry dismounted from his broom and joined them, but didn't say a word not wanting to get involved in their sibling bickering.

"Hey!" She cried in mock outrage. "At least I don't use every time I touch the quaffle as an excuse to show off."

"It's called _skill_, Gin. One day you might even figure out what is. Take Harry for example. He's turned falling off his broom into an art form. He really does it for the attention, but don't tell anyone," he said, flashing a grin at his friend.

"It's true," Harry admitted. "I suppose the whole attention-getting thing comes from being an only child. Maybe I should tell that to the _Prophet_. That will make for one story they haven't wrote about me yet."

They had a good laugh about that, until they stepped into the sunroom, finding Hermione sitting there with several books open on the table in front of her.

Ginny elbowed her brother hard in the side and sent him a meaningful look that he didn't get until she was dragging Harry into the house and it was just the two of them in the sunroom.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "I was wondering if maybe later you would go through that spell book Lupin gave us this morning. It's, ah, quite advanced."

She shrugged while marking a page in her book. "I don't know if I'll have time."

He moved so he was standing in front of her. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Keep what up?" She said innocently.

He sighed and walked away from her. He was not going to fight with her about this all over again.

"Hermione, this was on the table for you," said Ginny, stepping back outside. She handed Hermione a thin white envelope.

"The post already came today," said Hermione, taking it from her.

"It must be important then," Ginny said and walked back inside.

Ron noticed how she wasn't opening it right away. She was staring at the return address on it. "Who's it from?"

"The Ministry of Magic," she said in an anxious voice. This was not a good sign. What if the panel had reviewed her and Harry's case and had changed their mind? She wondered if Harry had received a letter as well but hadn't said anything because he was hoping she wouldn't get one.

With shaky fingers she opened it and unfolded the letter inside and began to read. She hadn't even finished reading the first line when her mouth formed a giant 'o' of surprise.

"Hermione?" Ron asked curiously as she continue to sit there and read, her mouth growing wider by the second. "What is it?"

She reread the letter twice over to be absolutely certain she had not misread anything. When she was finally convinced that she was not losing her mind, she said to Ron in an awed voice, "The ministry is offering me a job. They're making the Committee on Experimental Charms into an entire department and they want to interview me for a position."

Ron's eyes widened. "Really? That's fantastic, Hermione!"

She still wasn't sure she believed what was in her hands. She had wanted to work at the ministry forever, and with Fudge about to be replaced there was a good chance at it being a lot less corrupt now. "But I don't understand why they would want me. I don't have any qualifications – I haven't even graduated from Hogwarts. It doesn't make any sense," she said, scrutinizing the letter more closely. She really wished she didn't have to rationalize every little thing. Why couldn't she just enjoy this moment?

"They obviously want you so why does any of that matter?"

She wanted to sit and think about the offer, but already knew in her heart if they had asked her for an interview that second she would have done it. As she reread the letter yet again, she couldn't exactly say she didn't have any of the qualifications they were looking for. They wanted someone with knowledge of advanced arithmancy and an understanding for the mechanics of spell work. Probably the most significant part was that since the department was just being formed she would have the opportunity to have a say in the way things developed. She would be out of her mind to pass this up.

"So what are you going to do?" Ron asked her.

"I – I don't know," she replied. "I mean this is probably everything I've ever wanted right here in this letter, but then there's the Auror training." There was no humanly way she would be able to do both. She found herself faced with yet another impossible choice, choosing between something she always wanted and staying with Ron and Harry.

"You should do whatever makes you happy," said Ron.

If she hadn't been so overwhelmed and excited by the offer the ministry had given her, she would have been suspicious of why Ron was all of the sudden supporting her if she chose to become an Auror.

That evening Harry was to have his first Occlumency lesson with Snape. He had been so burnt out from Quidditch and studying he had forgotten about it completely until Lupin had reminded him at dinner. He was glad he had forgotten about it otherwise he would have spent the day dreading what was to come. There weren't many people he hated more than Snape. The Potions Master never seemed to throw away the chance to comment on his stupidity or arrogance. Harry knew for a fact that Snape was going go out of his way to make this lesson as miserable as possible.

Armed with that knowledge, once the clock showed five to eight, Harry left his room and made for the small study on the main floor. Snape was already there waiting for him.

"You're late, Potter," Snape snapped.

"Professor Lupin said eight o'clock," Harry said to him.

"I'm not senile, Potter. I know exactly what time I told Lupin I wanted you here. If you can't even get that simple task right perhaps I'm wasting my time."

It was impossibly hard for Harry to keep his mouth shut. He didn't want to be there either, and maybe if he let Snape goad him into an argument, he would call off the lessons altogether. But Harry restrained himself.

"I've been told you have an Auror exam on Monday. But if you can't master mind blocking techniques like Occlumency, you will be as pathetic an Auror as you were a potions student," he said, his lip curling upwards in a sneer.

Harry was clenching his wand so tightly he was sure it would break. "Can we just get this over with?"

Snape continued to leer at him a while longer before eventually pulling out his wand. "I trust we don't have to go back to the basics, unless Lupin is as incompetent a teacher as I think he is."

_Don't take the bait!_ A voice inside his head screamed. He pulled out his own wand to show he was ready.

"Now that you're new abilities have surfaced," Snape continued, "you should not only be trying to close your mind to me, but when my curse does manage to get a hold of you, you should throw it off without projecting any of your thoughts into my mind. If you don't learn to control your emotions your enemy will not be the only one who suffers. _Legilimens_!"

Harry was on all fours, clutching his scar before he knew what was happening. His mother's screams rang in his head, which quickly turned into Hermione's voice as she screamed at Harry they had to do the spell now or Ron would die. Then it was Sirius, being out dueled by Lestrange and failing through the veiled portrait… Then it all stopped and he knew Snape must have lifted the curse because he was sure he hadn't fought it off.

He lay there, facing burning with humiliation because he should have known Snape was going to try and catch him off guard like that.

"I see we may have to go back to the beginning," said an irritated Snape. "Despite how incompetent you are I would have thought you at least would have mastered the basics of Occlumency. I suppose I was giving you too much credit."

"You didn't even give me a chance to get ready!" Harry shouted, rising to his feet. As he said it, the lights in the room flickered on and off.

"Mind your temper, Potter," Snape reprimanded him. "I will not tolerate you losing control like that every time something doesn't go your way."

Harry fought to clear his head. If there was anything Occlumency had taught him, it was that he could not let his emotions get in the way of his rational thinking or he would not be able to focus on throwing off the curse. He was going to need every ounce of self-control he possessed to survive the lesson.

"_Legilimens_!"


	30. Career Choices

CHAPTER THIRTY: Career Choices

The weekend went by in a blur for Ron. Before he knew it, it was Monday morning and he was getting ready to leave the house for his Auror examination. Though he had studied much harder then he had for anything else in his life, he was nervous – so nervous he barely finished a single piece of toast, even knowing later he would regret not eating more.

Harry looked just like he did before a Quidditch match. He sat at the table not saying much and putting more effort into pushing the scrambled eggs around his plate than actually eating them.

Hermione was doing much the same thing, but when their eyes met she gave him a tiny smile. Her mood had changed considerably since she had received the ministry job offer letter. She was eager to help him and Harry study, and offered them hints or advice wherever she could. Though she had told them she wasn't completely convinced she was going to take the job, she agreed to an interview when a second owl arrived later the next day. Her interview was scheduled during the time they were supposed to be writing their Auror exam, and that had almost been enough to make her ignore the offer altogether. She had talked to Tonks, who had informed her there was a second batch of examinations scheduled later on in the day, because they wanted to minimize the numbers of those writing the exam in one room. The matter was settled then. She would attend her interview in the morning and then Tonks would bring her back in the afternoon so she could sit the written exam and then take the practical one. Ron prayed that her interview would go well enough she would decide not to sit the examination.

Ginny was the only one who was eating normally. She had gotten up to wish them luck, but right now Ron wished she hadn't because the sight of her eating was making him rather nauseous.

"Is that the article about Hogwarts closing?" She asked Hermione between mouthfuls of cereal.

The other girl nodded and passed her the paper. "Go on, I've already read it over twice. It's still hard to believe it's really closed," she said sadly.

Ron got up and looked over his sister's shoulder at the paper, while Harry shuffled his chair closer to Ginny's. Without meaning to, his hand came to lie beside hers, just barely touching it. She didn't look at him, but a small, almost undetectable smile formed on her face as she began reading the front page of the paper.

There was a large picture of Hogwarts covering the front page with the caption underneath:

_Hogwarts Closes its Doors for the First Time in 300 Years_

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy announced this morning that the school would be closed indefinitely. The Headmaster does not wish to put the lives of his students in any unnecessary danger after the attack on Hogsmeade village, where some students were killed and dozens more injured in the surprise Death Eater attack. All students attending Hogwarts were sent home immediately after the attack on the wizarding village, only receiving word last night that they would not be returning to finish their year.

_Since it is well known that Hogwarts is protected by centuries old magic by some of the most powerful wizards (and witches) of our time, it leads to speculation as to Albus Dumbledore's rash decision. Without question, Dumbledore, a decades old member of the Order of Merlin – First Class, has always put the welfare of his students above all else, so if he believes the school is no longer safe then it is not for wizarding kind to question his decision. Of course, if a sanctuary like Hogwarts, which was kept open throughout You-Know-Who's last reign of power, is suddenly defenseless, it leaves the _Daily Prophet_ with only one conclusion – You-Know-Who is much more powerful now this time around._

At the request of the families, the Daily Prophet respects their wishes and will not release the names of any of the deceased students.

_See page 2 for a list of You-Know-Who's speculated whereabouts and most recent Death Eater activity._

_See page 3 for the _Daily Prophet's exclusive_ report on why You-Know-Who is more powerful this time around._

_See page 4 for the full story on why Headmaster Dejean closed Hogwarts the only other time in history during the Goblin revolt of 1614._

_See page 5 to learn how you can provide a full magical education for your children right in your very home._

"They're making Hogwarts closing sound like the end of the world," noted Ron.

"It's not like they're exactly wrong," said Harry, his hand still resting next to Ginny's. "If a place like Hogarts isn't safe, then no one's really safe anywhere. I mean if Dumbledore's that worried about Voldemort planning an attack there, things could be a lot worse than they've been letting on."

"The Order, you mean?" Said Hermione.

Harry nodded. "Hermione, it's like what you said, with us here they don't have to worry about being overheard or us finding out about things they're trying to keep hidden. Voldemort is getting stronger. He's planning something."

"Your scar?" Ginny asked him.

"No worse than usual," he said to her, "but that doesn't mean something's not going on. He knows I can get in his head and see what he sees, so maybe he's figured out a way to block his murderous intentions from me."

"We'll all be of age next year and can join the Order," said Ron, forgetting about his sister. I'd like to see them try and keep us in the dark then."

"Thanks for reminding me of that, Ron," said Ginny miserably. "Then I'll be the only one out of the loop."

"Sorry, Gin, I forget. But we'll tell you everything," Ron promised her.

Tonks chose that moment to arrive and all talk of Hogwarts closing and Voldemort's plans stopped. She was going to be the one to take them to the Ministry since she had to go in for work anyways.

They had rarely seen much of her lately with all the extra hours she and Moody had been putting in due to the Auror shortage. Neither Tonks nor Moody would reveal how low the numbers were, but when you had to work a fourteen hour day seven days a week, that was definitely not a good sign. Aurors had always been in short supply that it could take years to recover from Fudge's latest scandal. The wizarding world could not wait years. They needed a solution – and fast.

"Ready to go?" Tonks said to the trio.

Hermione nodded while the boys looked extremely glum.

They said good-bye to Ginny, and then Lupin who was in the study before leaving with Tonks to catch the Knight Bus. In only a few hours time they would be back at Lupin's and it would all be over – good or bad.

At this hour in the morning, The Ministry of Magic was a zoo of activity to say the least. Witches and wizards who were going to be late for work, hurried towards available lifts, or scrambled towards stairwells, not wanting to wait. The security card, who was logging in visitors or ministry employees, did so at an extraordinary rate, so that the long line up the four of them were waiting in quickly diminished.

"State your business," the guard grumbled at Harry after Tonks had gone through.

"Writing the Auror examination," he answered, handing his wand over to be inspected.

The guard gave him a dubious look, likely because of his age, before handing him a visitor's badge and allowing him to pass.

"State your business," the guard said in the same monotone voice to Ron.

"The same," Ron replied.

This time the guard looked over at Tonks, but she simply nodded her head. Shrugging the guard took his wand and handed him a visitor's bade.

"You here for the same thing?" He asked Hermione when she approached the check in.

"No. My name is Hermione Granger, I'm scheduled for an interview with Jack Anderson in the Department – "

"You're early," he cut her off, reading a list in front of him.

"I know," she responded.

"As long as you don't mind waiting," he said and let her pass through, making a note on the list in front of him.

Once they had all passed the inspection point, Tonks led them towards a stairwell off to their right.

They passed by dozens of dazzling pictures of the wizards running for Minister of Magic, with their campaign promises listed underneath. Mr. Weasley's picture was smiling and waving. Every few seconds it would say things like _"Equal rights for non-humans" _and _"Time for a Minister whose policy is honesty, not deception"_. A poster in the middle identified that coming Thursday as the vote for the next Minister of Magic, with a chart beneath listing available polling stations across Britain.

"The only way to reach the examination area is by stairs," Tinks explained to them. "All the examination rooms are held on the same floor in the sub level basement of the Ministry. Your wands will be transferred down there and when it comes time for the practical exam they'll be given back to you."

They had to walk down five flights of stairs before they had reached the bottom and could not go down any further. Tonks led them straight into the dreariest looking hallway Hermione had seen in her few visits to the Ministry. The walls were bear and looked to be made of concrete. They passed by enormous wooden doors with signs that read _Magical Education_ _Upgrading_ or _Spell Doctorate Testing_. She also noticed there were a number of doors that had no sign, just on an odd symbol on it that she didn't recognize. She also noticed there were doors marked _OWL and NEWT Examination_.

"It's for those kids that are home schooled," said Tonks, seeing where she was looking. "The parents or whoever else gives them their regular lessons, but they have to write exams here."

At the end of the hall there was a single door left marked _Auror Testing Facility_.

"This is where you go in. There's a waiting area you'll sit in until they call you in for the exam," she told them "You three will be on your own to get back to Remus's," she continued. "Even though it's a given, I'm going to say it anyways – _stay together_, okay? And while you're doing that, try to keep out of trouble."

It wasn't as if they purposely tried to get themselves into dangerous situations on purpose every time they were together, but they understood Tonks point and nodded their heads.

"When you're done, you'll meet Hermione back in the main reception area, since she'll be done before you," she told Ron and Harry. "Good luck and stop looking so dreadful. You'll do fine. Just think every question through logically. Think about what you would do in the actual situation. For the section on potions and antidotes I hoped you studied because you won't be able to fake your way through that."

Harry and Ron both paled.

"You both studied, you'll be fine," Hermione assured them. "Good luck." Without giving it any thought, she gave Ron a quick kiss, much to his shock and that of Tonks and Harry. They were never that open about affection in front of other people, but it was just Tonks and Harry, so she didn't see it as a big deal.

"Your interview will go great," Ron said to her. "He'd be a idiot not to give you the job."

"All right you two, break it up," Tonks said teasing. "This is a ministry regulated hallway after all."

Blushing furiously, they separated. Without looking back, Harry turned the door handle and they walked in, the door closing with a loud thud behind them.

As soon as they were gone, Tonks began leading Hermione back the way they came. Once they were back on the main level, they went to catch a lift. It wasn't so busy now, and they only had to wait a few moments for one to arrive. They stepped in and had the entire lift to themselves. Tonks hit the button for the fourth floor.

"I didn't say too much back there with the boys," the Auror began, turning to Hermione, "because I didn't want them to think I was mothering them – Merlin knows that's the last thing I want – but since you seem to be the most level headed and reasonable, though I'm not so sure now after what I witnessed down there – "

"Tonks!" Hermione cried indignant, her face reddening.

"Just keep them in line," she finished with a grin.

"Oh great, now I get to be the one to mother them," Hermione grumbled.

"You don't have to do that, but it has been awhile since any of you had any real freedom. I understand how frustrated you are by being stuck in that house for days on end, so enjoy it, but be careful," she said warily.

The lift arrived on their designated floor and they got off. They barely stepped into the hallway before Hermione caught sight of the door marked _Department of Experimental Charms._

"Just go right in," Tonks told him. "Jack wouldn't mind that you're early."

"You know him?" Hermione inquired.

"Of course. He started back in February after the committee's previous director was murdered by Death Eaters. He comes down to the Auror offices a few times a month with improved charms or spells for us to try out when we're in the field. He's a smart bloke and rather good looking too. Takes his work seriously, though – so you should fit right in," Tonks finished with a wink.

She stepped back into the waiting lift, which closed its doors almost immediately, leaving Hermione alone in the corridor. There was no point in just standing there. Swallowing her nerves, she grabbed the brass handle to the door and walked in.

The Department of Experimental Charms was by no means glamorous, but it had a humble important look to it that Hermione was instantly drawn to. She could see how new it was. There wasn't a lot of furniture yet and there were boxes stacked in the corner. She told the friendly witch at reception she had an appointment with Jack Anderson but was early. She conjured a chair for Hermione to sit on and went to tell Anderson she was there.

When she returned, she said to Hermione, "he'll be with you momentarily."

Hermione nodded and smiled her appreciation, politely declining the receptionist's offer for a cup of tea.

She willed herself to calm down. There was no reason for her to be nervous. She had made sure to prepare for this. She had reviewed the more complex spells she had been taught at Hogwarts and through the books Lupin had given them to study for the Auror examinations had learned a great deal more. She had also asked Ron's dad if he could get her any information on the Committee of Experimental Charms, so she would have a more sound idea of what they did. He had been able to grab whatever information the Ministry had deemed not classified, which was not a whole lot – but at least she wasn't going in completely blind. That didn't stop her from feeling like she could have done more to prepare.

A man in casual blue robes stepped out into the reception area then, his gaze falling immediately on Hermione.

"Hi, Hermione. I'm Jack," he introduced himself and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you," she said politely, shaking his hand. "I know I'm early. I hope that's not a problem."

"Of course not," he said good-naturedly. "Why don't we go back to my office and talk?"

He led her in the direction he had come from and began apologizing for the state the department was in. "We just got settled in here almost two months ago and we're still waiting for the filing cabinets to put away all our research. When they packed up our committee room, the Ministry workers just threw everything in together, so we've had a hard time putting everything back where it belongs."

He showed her in to his office and she took the single seat in front of his desk. Their were boxes stacked neatly along the walls of the room, and there were three separate piles of folders stacked on his desk that he pushed aside so he could see her.

"We're still in the growth stage," he informed her. "Mostly everyone in here, including myself, are just starting off. A lot of the individuals who were on the original committee were approaching retirement and didn't want to take on a new project. Before, for the most part the committee would approve or disapprove, charms and spells other wizards had developed. We would do the occasional research and use previous ideas to develop new spells, but there wasn't enough people for that to be the main focus. Our purpose here is to study existing spells and use that knowledge to better the spell or come up with a new one entirely. A lot of it involves in-depth study into the magical properties that make a spell work. Hands on research is another big part of the job, and occasionally testing to see if what we've developed actually works. That tends to be a bit more on the hazardous side of things," He explained. "I hope you don't mind but I looked through your Hogwarts transcript, read the recommendations of your Professors before I even contacted you."

She didn't mind at all. She had figured as much herself. She didn't have anything to hide anyways, except the incident with Cho back in December. She was sure Snape wouldn't have passed up the opportunity to destroy her clean record. "It's your job to thoroughly research each person you consider for this job. You need to ensure they're qualified." She wasn't sure if she should have said that last part. If she was up against other candidates they were likely to have years of experience over her. Merlin, what had she been thinking? She was in way over her head. There was no way he was going to select her when she didn't even have a completed magical education. It didn't matter how high her marks were.

"I'm glad you don't mind. Some people don't like having their record dug up. It makes them uncomfortable. Though I can see why it wouldn't bother you." He looked down at the piece of parchment on his desk. "You're at the top in all your classes, you made prefect, and your OWL scores were the highest in your year. But you're dad pulled you out of Hogwarts back in January, is that right?"

"That's correct," she replied.

"Did you try to continue with your studies after that?"

"I brought all my books with me. I would try and study whenever I had the chance."

"Are you still continuing with that now?

"Yes. My former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from Hogwarts is educating me now."

"Aside from what you've done in school, you have absolutely no experience. You also haven't completed your NEWTs or the other wizarding tests required to take on a job of this magnitude. What makes you think you'll be able to perform here?"

It was a brutally honest question that he had every right in asking, and the only way she knew how to answer without stuttering or sounding foolish was to be honest back. "Examinations and grades can only tell you so much about a person. There's a difference between being able to write an essay on shield charms and actually being able to conjure a strong, working one when you're under a pressure and wasting time thinking about it could get you killed. I'm a fast learner, as you probably read in my transcript, which means I could break down a spell to its most simple components and use that to improve the current comprehension of it or build solutions and other spells. I learned in Arithmacy that spells are really just equations. If you take the time to see them at their simplest elements you can understand how they work. I may only have academic experience, but I know I could do this job as well as anyone else."

Anderson looked impressed with her response, and she couldn't help but feel the interview was going in her favour.

"Tell me about the sacrificial and life-bonding spells you managed to accomplish."

She felt her stomach plunge. She should have known if he could get a hold of her school records he would do a background check to see if she had a Ministry record. Though the charge had been dismissed, there would probably still be a record of it somewhere. The excitement she had been feeling was replaced by dread. She suddenly realized how badly she wanted this job and there was no way he was going to hire someone who blatantly ignored magic labeled as forbidden and dangerous and went ahead and did it anyways. He wished he would just save her the humiliation and ask her to leave now. "What do you want to know?" She asked, struggling to keep her voice from giving anything of what she was feeling away.

"For starters, how did you even find out about a spell that no one has tried in the last century?"

"I used the Restricted Section of the library at Hogwarts and began doing research."

"Why?"

"Because my mother had just been murdered in a Death Eater attack and I didn't want the same thing to happen to my friends," she said bluntly. "I wanted to protect them."

"The fact that wizards and witches with experience well beyond yours and were still never able to perform one successfully, didn't make you think you shouldn't do it?"

"I knew I could make it work," she told him, knowing that everything was over anyways. "The others who had tried it had only done it out of necessity, or as an experimental application. I reasoned that they failed because they never had any personal connection to the subject in question. In order to share a life force or a soul if the situation arose, that bond makes the difference. Based on what happened, the person's life that I was able to save, I believe that to be correct."

"If you had to do it all over again, would you still do it?" Anderson asked, leaning forward.

She thought about Ron and answered without hesitation, "yes."

Anderson was nodding his head as if in approval. "I'm glad that's your answer because otherwise I would have shown you the door and I really didn't want to do that."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Hermione said in confusion. In her mind he should have kicked her out long before then.

He chuckled. "I'm sure that wasn't what you were expecting to hear, so let me explain myself. The work we're doing here requires an enormous amount of ingenuity and initiative – the willingness to take risks because there's something much greater at stake. That's not to say we proceed blindly without any regard for procedure. There is protocol to be followed – we wouldn't be alive if there wasn't. But we want someone who doesn't stop just because they were told it can't be done. They'll view every challenge as a step towards bettering the magical world, whether it be something as complex as a cloaking charm for Aurors or something as simple as a spell that keeps two day old food fresh. If you think that you'd be able to do that – that you would want to do that – then I promise you, you'll love every minute you're here."

She was unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Are you saying I've got the job?"

"I still have to talk it over with Cecily – she was the assistant director of the original committee – but I have a feeling she should be fine with it. It will be one less position for her to try and fill."

He began talking to her about some of the projects they were currently working on, and giving her information on the others in the department. She took it all in eagerly. Any previous notions of going through with the Auror testing purged from her mind. This was where she could do the most good in the fight against Voldemort. She was convinced of that.

Harry left the practical part of the Auror exam feeling completely drained. The written exam had been exhausting enough, but once that was over each person was assigned to a different Auror and an illusion charm was placed on their section of the room, so no one could see what they were being asked to do and cheat from it.

As Harry was sure had happened with everyone else, he was put through over an hour's worth of practice throwing and defending against various spells. The final test had been to conjure a perfect patronus that would destroy the boggart hidden in a trunk. As always, Harry's had turned into a Dementor, but he battled it away with ease. He had a feeling his instructor was the most impressed with that. After each test, his instructor would scribble down something on what Harry assumed to be a scorecard. When it was over, the Auror directed him out of the testing area and back out into the waiting room. He sat there for a few minutes before Ron came out and joined him. Neither one said a word as they trudged wearily down the corridor and back to the stairwell. It appeared that Ron was just as worried about how the testing had gone. Harry was sure he hadn't done that great on the written portion, so he prayed the practical part was worth much more.

Hermione practically flew towards them when she saw them emerge from the stairwell. If there was ever any doubt that her interview had not gone well it was erased then.

"Well? How was it?" She asked them immediately.

"I don't think I did that well on the written," Harry admitted. "I hope my practical mark makes up for it."

"They asked the most screwed up questions on that test," Ron said. "Harry, remember the one that said, 'if you found yourself caught in an impossible situation and had to make a choice, who would you kill – your mother, your father or yourself. What the hell kind of question is that?"

"A psychological one," said Hermione. "They want to know how you would react under pressure. It can also reveal a lot about who you are. If you picked your mother it would suggest you have issues with abandonment, while picking your father would imply the absence of a strong male figure in your life. If you choose yourself it shows your willingness to give your life to save others."

Ron gaped at her. "I think it's safe to say I missed the point entirely on that one."

"Did you interview go well?" Harry asked her, not wanting to talk about the exam anymore.

"It was brilliant!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "He had all my records from Hogwarts and it was going really well, until he brought up the sacrifice spell we did – no, wait let me finish. I thought I lost any chance I had at a job but he said that was the kind of dedication and ingenuity necessary for modifying and creating spells."

Harry was frowning. "If he thinks it's all right to mess around with unstable magic, maybe this job isn't such a good idea."

"It's not like he was approving of what I did," she said dismissively. "He wanted to see that I wasn't willing to back down from a challenge when there was something great to be achieved from it."

There was something about that that bothered Harry. "Still…" he trailed off seeing Ron was shaking his head and mouthing for him shut up.

"I told you you'd get the job," Ron said, his voice proud.

"Nothing's for sure yet," she reminded him. "He still needs to talk it over with the assistant director of the committee."

"Are you kidding me? He just said that so you wouldn't start jumping up and down, begging to start working right then and there."

She hit him playfully on the shoulder and he grinned lopsided at her.

"Can we get something to eat? I'm starved," Ron complained, slipping one arm around Hermione's waist.

"We could be back at Remus' in twenty minutes – "

"Nothing against Remus, Hermione, but we haven't been out of that house for more than an hour since we got there – and playing Quidditch out in the back doesn't count. What do you say, Harry? There's that whole section they built up so the ministry staff could go to there for lunch."

One look at Harry told Hermione he was going to side with Ron on this one. Tonks warning came to mind then, but she too was finding a hard time seeing the harm in finally getting to eat a meal in a different location. And if Harry and Ron made it into the Auror program they were going to be spending a lot more time out in the open, _alone_.

Harry and Ron had to give their wands back after the examination, so the three of them collected their wands and handed back their visitor badges before heading back up to the surface. A short walk from the red telephone booth was a road that led to a tunnel that was blocked off. There were warning signs up all around that said _Under Construction: Keep Out!_ They ignored these warnings and crossed the barrier that would take them to a decent sized wizarding shopping area. Despite how the sky looked ready to open up and pour down on them any second, the streets were filled with eager shoppers and Ministry employees looking for a place to eat at.

"My dad ate at the Mad Scotsman one time," Ron said to them. "He said it was good."

Not knowing any of the other places there, they decided to take Mr. Weasley's word for it.

They found it next to a teashop, and there was already a large group of people lining up outside to get in.

"I thought it was strange that there were so many people our age there to sit the exam," said Harry as they walked to the back of the line.

"Hey, I noticed that too. Do you reckon – " Ron stopped talking and glanced at Hermione, who had gone stiff beside him. "What is it?"

"I think we're being followed," she said in a low voice.

He and Harry exchanged worried looks. "Are you sure it's not someone from the Order?" Ron asked her.

"I can't be sure," she answered. "But Tonks did tell us we'd be on our own, unless she didn't want us to know we were being watched."

"We're not hanging around to find out," said Harry, his face grim.

Trying to look as natural as possible, they slipped away from the Mad Scotsman and into the busy streets.

"Can you still see him?" Harry asked her.

"Yes," she answered, looking over her shoulder. "I only see the one. There might be more though."

If there was any doubt that they were being followed, it was erased when they saw the wizard in the dull brown robes match their pace to catch up with them. It was definitely not someone from the Order, and Harry knew Moody no longer trusted the Aurors enough to watch him. He came to a decision while pushing his friends down an alleyway out of sight.

"We need to split up," he said immediately.

"That is the absolute worse thing we could do!" Hermione protested. "We stand a better chance against them if we're together."

"Hermione, don't argue with me on this," he said, sharply. "It's me they're after. If there is more than one, they'll split up and probably have most of them follow after me."

"What if they all go after you? What then, Harry?"

"I don't know," he answered, running a frantic hand through his hair.

Ron severely disliked this plan. "Harry, we should – "

"Ron, we don't have time to argue," Harry silenced him. "Go with Hermione and get as far away from here as possible."

"Harry, this is insane – "

"_Do it_," he said, his eyes burning emerald orbs. "And don't go to Lupin's until you're sure you haven't been followed."

He then stepped back out into the streets and Hermione lunged for him, but Ron held her back to keep her from being spotted. They quickly lost sight of Harry in the massive crowd, and it was hard to tell from their position if he had been followed.

"Ron, we have to go after him."

"I hate it as much as you do, but he's right. Whoever they are, we stand a better chance if their numbers are divided. Hermione, Harry will be all right. He can take care of himself." His voice was urgent because he knew they had to move before they were discovered.

It took a bit more coaxing but he finally convinced her to leave. They started running down the alley, knowing that any more time wasted could end up costing them their lives.


	31. Escape

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: Escape**

Harry's mind was still active and alert from the Auror exam, something he was grateful for because it allowed him to keep one step ahead of his pursuers. But that advantage was quickly dissolving as the gray skies opened up and rain was now pelting down around him. He used the repellent charm on his glasses that Hermione had taught him all those years back, but the rain was so heavy even a person with perfect vision would have trouble seeing. Another problem was that even with all the rain Harry Potter was still one of the most recognizable people in the wizarding world. He wanted to discard his drenched robe, but that would have made him stick out with the muggle clothes he had on underneath.

He was doing his best to remain hidden, while drawing the two trailers he had spotted away from Ron and Hermione. He snuck a look around the corner of the building he was hiding behind and was greeted with an explosion of wand fire that hit the bricks of the building, only narrowly missing his head. He leaned back against the bricks, breathing heavily. They were too close to outrun. What he needed to do was buy himself some time. Even he knew taking on two armed and dangerous Death Eaters would be a foolish thing to do.

But there was still one advantage he had that they didn't. Snape would kill him if he knew what he was about to do, and for that matter Lupin probably would do the same, but the way he saw it he didn't have any other choice.

Steadying his breathing, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the thoughts and feelings that a Death Eater would have in order to separate them from any other presence in the area. He didn't even know if this would work. The only other times his when his so-called mind powers had showed up were when he was angry and hadn't even needed to think about it. He was probably just wasting time when he should have been trying to put as much distance between himself and the Death Eaters as possible.

He could feel something in his mind that was not his own, followed by another set of thoughts that were uniquely different. He choked out a gasp at the myriad of horrifying images playing through his head. He tried shutting them out but couldn't. He needed to concentrate. He needed to make them see that their search was futile, that they would never find him in this weather and they would be better off returning to their master. He could feel their hesitation but it wasn't enough. He tried to press the urgency that they needed to leave, which conflicted with their thoughts that their master would be severely disappointed if they returned empty handed. He sent the thought to them that there would be many more opportunities to capture Harry Potter and his friends, and that it would be in their best interests – and that of their master – if they left now before someone noticed them. Their disappointment echoed in his mind, but he needed one more thing from them. _Who do you serve?_ A brief image flashed in his mind and he had his answer.

He held his breath; knowing how close one of the Death Eaters was to him now. If he so much as breathed, he would be seen and invading the Death Eaters minds would have been all for nothing.

The seconds ticked by, but the sounds of retreating footsteps could at last be heard, splashing loudly in the puddles.

Harry invaded their minds one last time, needing to be certain their retreat was genuine. Their anger and frustration rang loudly in his head at having lost their intended target, but so did their resolve that there would be other chances to abduct him. He let go of the hold he had on their minds and let his shoulders slump in relief. He hung his head, the mental exertion of what he had done taking its toll on his body. He wasn't even aware his body was sliding down the wall, until it collapsed on the ground, the rain continuing to pound down around him.

As she listened to the rainfall, Hermione began to accept she and Ron had managed to elude the Death Eaters chasing after them. Even now she marveled at how they had been able to escape when they had been so close to be being captured.

Once they had separated from Harry, the Death Eaters no longer seemed to care about stealth with their cover blown. They tried to lose themselves in the crowds of people, but that was only a temporary solution. Hermione decided their best chance for escape would be to hide in muggle London. It would provide them with the advantage, as she would be much more familiar with the muggle world than the Death Eaters would. So she and Ron discarded their robes, which were too heavy to run in anyways, and crossed the construction barrier that led them back to the muggle world. It wasn't long before two cloaked figures crossed the same barrier and continued to give chase.

After ten more minutes of running and dodging through streets and alleys, combined with the torrential downpour of rain, Ron told her they couldn't keep this up. They needed to escape, not stay a couple of minutes ahead of their pursuers. What Hermione needed was time to catch her breath and think. If they had the ability to apparate they could have gotten themselves out of this perilous situation long before now, but they didn't have either of those luxuries. However, inspiration came to her when she spotted their escape parked on the side of the road. She grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him into the stationed taxicab.

They jumped inside and Hermione shouted the first destination that came to mind. The driver gave them a strange stare as they were both soaking wet and looked like they had been out running a marathon, before turning back around and starting up the cab. She and Ron looked out the back window, watching as the Death Eaters began to look smaller and smaller as they sped away.

She had never been more thankful that she still bothered to carry muggle money around with her. It was more out of habit than anything else, but it had proved useful then because at least they wouldn't have to flee the cab and worry about someone else chasing after them. She had got the cab driver to let them off a block away from their destinations. Then she quickly paid and they got out.

She was almost certain they had not been followed. Even if the Death Eaters had apparated, it would have been useless because they had no idea where she and Ron had been heading. She also knew they couldn't chance heading back to Lupin's until they were sure they had not been followed. They couldn't risk revealing the location and endangering Lupin and Ginny's lives in the process.

But the more she allowed herself to think about it, the more she realized it was probably a foolish idea to hide out in the one muggle location the Death Eaters could find, as they had found it once before. She hadn't had much time to think about where to go and this had seemed like the most logical place at the time. She took some comfort in the fact that Voldemort and his followers must have known that after their first attack on her parents, they would go into hiding. As far as they were concerned the house had new owners.

Her father had kept the house, though, hoping that one day they would be able to return to it, or maybe he just had not wanted to let go of the place he had lived with his wife since the day they married. A large number of her family's belongings remained there, as her father had wanted to leave as quickly as possible, buying almost everything new that sat in their Luxembourg home. The power had been cut with no one living there, but she wouldn't have chanced turning on a light anyways.

She didn't think Ron was entirely satisfied with their current place of hiding. He went upstairs to use one of the bedroom windows to get a better look at the street, wanting to be certain they hadn't been followed. He was busying himself with that while she went to look for some dry clothes for them. When she came back to her room, Ron still had his face near the glass window.

"This was all I could find," she said, dropping onto her bed a sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans her father used to wear when he was doing work around the house. Not for the first time she wished she was of age and could just do a drying charm on their clothes.

He turned away from the window at hearing her voice. He could see her features etched in concern. "Harry's all right," he said to her, saying what was on both their minds. "He survived a week under the capture of Death Eaters. That means he can outsmart the one's stupid enough to follow him." The truth was they didn't know how many had gone for Harry, and it was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed not to risk everything and go look for his friend.

"I know," she responded, though she didn't sound very convinced at all. She hugged her arms tighter around herself.

Ron came to stand in front of her. "You're freezing," he said, placing his arms on hers and feeling her shake beneath his touch.

"I'm okay," she said in the same less than convincing voice she had spoke in earlier. "What about you?"

"Me? Weasley's are just as thick skinned as they are thick headed," he said, grinning lopsided at her.

For the dire circumstances they were in, Ron had the amazing ability to make even the most serious of situations more relaxed. She wondered what a sight the two of them must look, standing there completely drenched, their clothes clinging to them, with their hair tangled and matted to their foreheads. With that last thought she moved her hands to her head, attempting to fix the horrifying mess that was undoubtedly her hair. When Ron saw what she was doing, he grabbed her hands and chuckled.

"You don't have to that," he whispered, his mouth near her ear. "You look beautiful just like this."

His blue eyes were fixed on her so intently, she found it difficult to look away. "We should probably get out of these wet clothes," she said, matching his gaze.

When she finally looked away from him, she reached inside her closest and pulled out a shirt. Ron immediately turned around, keeping his back to her so she could change. He tried to see out the window in her room from his current position, wanting to distract himself from the rustle of clothing. He heard a small gasp, drawing his attention away from what lay outside.

He turned his head slightly. "Are you hurt?" He cursed himself for not having thought of it sooner.

"Not really," she answered, hoping to ease his worries.

He turned fully around now, wanting to confirm that for himself because this would be exactly the sort of thing she would try to hide from him. Her back was to him and with just her bra on he could see the small gash above her left shoulder blade.

"You're right, it's not that bad," he told her. "It's already closed," he said, running a finger over it, causing her to shiver.

She turned around and Ron found his mouth suddenly go dry. She attempted to cover herself up with the shirt in her hands, but he stopped her, before leaning in to cover her lips with his own. He took his hands and ran them up her backside and she pressed herself against him. His hands soon worked their way up to the clasp on her bra, and he momentarily broke the kiss, waiting for her permission before he continued. Instead of giving it to him, she reached back and unhooked it herself. He swallowed, before reaching out with an unsteady hand to push one strap down and then the other. When the thin material was gone, he did a sharp intake of breath and she looked away.

He touched her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I told you you were beautiful."

She felt her cheeks flush being under his intense gaze. She decided it was only fair she wasn't the only one being ogled at. "I want to see you," she said.

He nodded and removed his shirt so fast it must have been some sort of record. She had seen him with no shirt before, but she still marveled at his complete lack of embarrassment.

"When you grow up in a house with eight other people, you don't have a whole lot of privacy," he explained. He said it mostly just to ease some of the nervousness he was feeling. Hermione kissed him hard on the mouth then and his nerves were forgotten.

Ron guided them back so they tumbled back onto her bed, placing his hands on either side of her to keep his weight from crushing her. He captured her lips in a bruising kiss, moaning out loud when she arched up against him. She moved her lips across his jaw line and reached for the belt on his trousers.

That was when everything – their perilous run from the Death Eaters, their mutual worry for Harry, and all else that was happening in their lives, seemed like a distant insignificant memory.

The sound of rain pelting down woke Hermione from her slumber. She almost panicked when she didn't recognize her surroundings. But once her sleep hazed mind cleared, she realized where she was. Judging by how dark the room was night had obviously fallen. She sat up in the bed, noticing that Ron wasn't there.

"Ron?" She called out.

"I'm here," he said, moving away from the window and back to the bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." She hugged the covers tighter around her body, even when there really wasn't much point to it – they were both well beyond modesty at that point. "What time is it?"

He glanced down at his watch. "Nearly ten," he said sitting down on top of the covers beside her.

She couldn't believe that much time had passed. The Order must be out looking for them, but she wondered if any of them would think to check outside the wizarding world.

"I think it's safe to say we weren't followed," he went on. "We should probably head back soon. Moody's got to have people out looking for us."

She nodded to show she had heard, but didn't say anything.

"What is it?" He asked, knowing something was troubling her. "Hermione?"

"I just wish that sometimes we had normal lives," she admitted, sounding both sad and frustrated. "I know that things have never been perfect, but lately it feels like we keep finding ourselves caught in these life or death situations."

"I know," he said, understanding her completely. "But it won't always be like this," he said cupping her cheek with his hand.

She knew in her heart it might be a long time before things calmed down. Right now was probably the calm before the storm. The extreme circumstances they kept finding themselves in had finally reached a breaking point that night, and had at least partially contributed to what had happened between them. She truly believed that though the possible peril they faced may have been the deciding factor, it had inevitable to avoid. The tension and the fighting and the being apart for so long eventually had to come out.

"We really should get going," he said again, though as he said it he was moving his face closer to hers. She didn't protest or give him a long-winded speech on why they should leave. Yes, everyone would be worried out of their minds, but really, what difference would a few more minutes make? That was the last coherent thought she had before Ron's lips claimed hers and he pressed them both back against the mattress.

It was close to midnight when the Knight Bus dropped them off not far from Lupin's. From there, they walked the remainder of the distance on foot.

Freedom be damned, Lupin's house was a welcome sight for Ron as he stepped onto the front porch and opened the screen door for himself and Hermione.

Ginny and his mother were half asleep at the kitchen table, but both came alert instantly upon hearing the front door opening. Tears of joy sprang from Mrs. Weasley's when she saw the two of them standing there. She threw her arms around Ron first and kept repeating over and over again, 'you're safe' before doing the same with Hermione.

"Are you sure you're all right?" She asked them, slightly frantic.

"Yes, mum, we're fine," Ron answered for the both of them, hoping to avoid another round of death grip-like hugging.

"I need to get in touch with your father. He has the whole Order out looking for you."

"Did Harry make it back here?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"He's upstairs, dear. Moody and Lupin found him and brought him back hours ago."

"What do you mean 'found him'? What's wrong with him?" Ron demanded to know.

"He used his abilities to get rid of the Death Eaters following him," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'll go up with you. I need to take down the barriers around his room before you can go in."

"Barriers?" Ron said in confusion. "Mum, what's going on?" He glanced at his sister, but she revealed nothing.

His mother was already walking up the stairs, and both he and Hermione bounded after her. Once the barrier around the room he shared with Harry was down, his mother said to the two of them, "don't pressure him for details about what happened right now. It's important that he rests. I'm sure when he's feeling up to it he'll tell you everything." Then his mother disappeared down the stars to use the floo system.

Ron walked in first, not knowing what he would find but bracing himself for the worst. There were a few lit candles in the room but that was all the illumination provided. Harry was lying on his back on top of the bed with his eyes closed.

"Harry?" Hermione said in an uneasy voice.

His eyes flew open. "Hermione? Ron?" He tried sitting up, but grabbed the sides of his head as if it were painful just to move.

"We were so worried," she said, the relief evident in her voice. She went over to him, but he backed away from her.

"Don't," he said harshly, backing up until his back was touching the wall. "I'm sorry," he said, seeing the hurt and confusion play across her face. "I just – I can't have anyone touch me right now. It hurts too much."

"Harry, what's going on? What happened to you?" Ron asked, forgetting his mother's warning and now looking just as worried as Hermione.

"I used my limited telepathy to stop the Death Eaters that were following me. I know I'm not supposed to use it," he said, seeing them exchange uneasy glances, "but I didn't have a choice. I made them think we weren't worth going after, and ever since I did that I can't shut my mind off. That's why your mum put the barriers around the room to try and block out everyone's thoughts. I can still hear them, but it's not as bad now."

"What about Snape? Isn't there something he can do?" Hermione asked.

"Probably," Harry conceded, rubbing his temples, "but I told him it was more important that he help in the search for you guys."

Hermione had never felt guiltier in her life. She and Ron had gotten so caught up in their own relationship, they didn't even give a fleeting thought as to where Harry might be and if he was all right. Harry, who had put aside his own suffering so that they might be found. That thought alone sickened her.

"I know who sent them," he said a moment later. "Narcissa Malfoy."

Ron sucked in a sharp breath. "Malfoy's mother? Are you sure, mate? Because I don't think – "

"Ron, it was her. I pulled it from their minds."

"But why would she send Death Eaters After you?" Ron asked him, fighting back the urge to stare openly at Harry. For someone who was supposed to have limited telepathic and empath abilities his powers actually seemed to be increasing in strength.

"I was the one who murdered her husband," he said, his tone grim. "Bellatrix Lestrange got out of there alive and probably told her – " He stopped talking, seeing the shadow of another person enter the room.

Ron turned his head to see what had caught his friend's eye. "Ginny, what are you doing here?" She was hanging back in the doorway.

"Mum, wanted me to tell you not to wear him out. She thinks you should let Harry rest." As she said, she looked everywhere but at Harry before walking back down the hall.

As always, his mother was right. Harry looked like hell, and barely seemed to be holding himself together.

"Do you need anything?" Hermione asked him.

Harry lightly shook his head.

She followed her natural instinct to lay her hand on his bare arm in a gesture of comfort, forgetting his earlier warnings not to touch him. The instant her skin touched his, something like fire coursed through her. She felt Harry reading her as if she were an open book. Every unguarded thought was there for him to see. She cried out and stumbled back, feeling Ron's arms reach around to steady her.

"Hermione, what happened?" He said, his voice filled with worry. He was still holding on to her.

"N-nothing," she stuttered. "I'm fine."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed the sides of his head. "You both should go."

Ron was still waiting for an explanation, when Hermione tore from the room. She waited until Ron was out before closing the door. They needed to get Mrs. Weasaley to put that barrier back up.

"What happened in there?" Ron questioned her.

"I should have listened when he said not to touch him. That's all," she told him.

He only had to look at her to know she wasn't telling him everything, but before he could press her on it, she was already taking the stairs down to look for his mother. She didn't want to explain to Ron that, however unintentionally, the brief time Harry had been in her head he had glimpsed many of her most personal memories, including why she and Ron hadn't been there for him sooner. He probably hated them both right now. If she were in his position, she would too.


	32. The Vote

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: The Vote

It took a few days before Harry felt ready to be around a number of people at once. During that time, Snape would come around twice a day to give him a potion that would dull the effects, but it wasn't meant to be taken continuously and it would not work if he was in a crowded room of people. So he spent most of that time shut up in his room, practicing mind exercises from a book Snape had leant him. Snape, in his typical condescending fashion, told him it was idiotic to use powers he still had no control over and even less understanding about. If he didn't want to pass out every time he used them he had to build up defenses. Originally, Snape had wanted him to control his mind abilities but never use them. However, it looked like now he was willing to concede that would not always be possible.

Now he was standing out on the front porch, leaning against the railing, glad for the fresh air, and even more grateful that the only sounds in his head were his own thoughts.

The screen door opened behind him and Lupin joined him, his stance mirroring Harry's.

"I won't ask how you're feeling, since I'm sure Molly has asked you that at least a million times already," he said, giving Harry a warm smile. "But I will ask if everything's all right up here." He pointed a finger to his own temple.

"Everything's silent," Harry assured him. "I guess I have Snape to thank for that."

"True, but you were the one who started shielding your mind from everyone else's. You did that on your own," his former teacher said proudly.

"I know it was a stupid thing to do," said Harry after a moment. "I barely have any training but I used it anyways."

"You have your Occlumency," Lupin reminded him. "I know it's not exactly the same thing, but it's probably the only defense that kept you from lapsing into a coma or worse. What would have been stupid was if you hadn't used every resource available to protect yourself. If anything, you should have at least learned that much from Moody. I'm not saying it was the brightest move, but you did what you had to given the circumstances." Lupin looked at him, his expression difficult to read. "I know originally I told you your powers would barely register except under situations of extreme duress, but after talking with Severus, I think I may have been wrong. He feels that your abilities are linked directly to Voldemort. The stronger he becomes, the stronger your powers are. I think at this point it would be impossible to keep you from using them completely. With the proper training from Severus, you could learn to have complete control over them and possibly use it to your advantage over your enemies. But you must be careful, Harry. You could potentially harm yourself and others. I would not recommend using it on anyone close to you until you've mastered full control. Even then, you need to be respectful of their privacy. I don't think I need to explain that part to you."

Harry folded his hands behind his head, trying to take in what Lupin had told him but at the same time not wanting to think about it too much. After what happened with the Death Eaters it would be a long time before he tried anything like that again. But if his powers were linked to Voldemort there was no telling what he might be able to do. He was in completely unknown territory and he doubted that even Snape fully understood what was happening to him or what he was capable of. That was not the only thing pressing on his mind.

"I couldn't even kill them," he said at last, referring to the Death Eaters that had been chasing after him. "I saw in their heads all the atrocities they had committed and all I had to do was concentrate a bit harder and they would have been dead."

"You've taken lives before but only because it was absolutely necessary. You didn't kill because you could – you killed out of necessity. And I promise you you'll have to kill again before this war is over," Lupin said, his tone grim. "Harry, There's a big difference between defending yourself and being a murderer. You have compassion, Harry, something that killers don't have. You showed those Death Eaters compassion even knowing they would never show you that if given the same opportunity."

"Moody would see that as a sign of weakness," said Harry, running both his hands through his hair. "And he'd be right. What kind of Auror am I going to be if I can't kill the enemy? I couldn't kill those Death Eaters, just like I couldn't let you and Sirius kill Wormtail. That same _compassion_," he spat the word, "let Wormtail escape and we couldn't clear Sirius's name. If we had, he wouldn't have been a prisoner at Grimmauld Place. If he had been out on missions for the Order he might still be alive." He had to blink hard to keep his tears at bay.

Lupin swallowed the lump in his throat. It was still hard talking about his friend in the past tense. He thought it would have been easy considering all the friends he had buried over the years but it wasn't. "Harry, I miss Sirius as much as you do. I don't know which one of us it's worse for – me, because I knew him almost my whole life, or you, because you never got that chance. Even if we had cleared Sirius's name there's still no guarantee he would be alive. He could have been killed on a mission for the Order, or maybe still died at the Ministry, or maybe he would still be alive and here right now, telling us both we need to get a grip on ourselves. If you want someone to blame for Pettigrew escaping, you should start with me. If I hadn't transformed he wouldn't have gotten away."

Harry stared down at his hands. "You couldn't control what was happening to you." He could still remember that night clearly. The first night he had met Sirius and learned he hadn't been the one who betrayed his parents. The night where for a short time he was filled with the knowledge that he would never have to go back to the Dursley's again.

"If I had at least remembered to take my Wolfsbane potion, I wouldn't have tried to kill everyone and Sirius and I could have stopped him from escaping." Harry opened his mouth to protest his admission of guilt, but Lupin held up a hand to stop him. "What I'm trying to say, Harry, is that you'll make yourself crazy thinking about all the 'what ifs', but that still doesn't change that what happened wasn't your fault. Yes, you should have been putting more effort into your Occlumency because you knew how important it was, but Sirius knew better too. Dumbledore ordered him to stay at Phoenix Headquarters but he ignored him. Since we were boys at school, Sirius was always reckless and never one for authority. Even if you hadn't followed that vision and gone to the Ministry, something else would have happened later on to put you in danger and Sirius would have done the same thing. Your safety was more important to him than anything else."

Harry kept his sight focused on the trees and land in front of them. His eyes were still watering but as long as he didn't look at Lupin he would be okay. It was just that after months of pushing any thoughts of Sirius into a forgotten part of his mind, talking about his godfather so openly, and with someone who understood every single emotion coursing through him was almost too much. When Lupin did speak again, he had almost forgotten he was standing there, since neither one had spoke in quite some time.

"When you were parents were still alive, but the war was getting really bad," Lupin started, his voice wavering slightly, "Sirius and I promised them that if anything ever happened, we would take care of you and raise you the way they would have." He shook his head ruefully. "If James and Lily were here to see everything we've got you caught up in – the same things we were supposed to protect you from – "

"They would be proud you did the best you could given the circumstances," Harry finished for him.

Lupin felt his own eyes water and quickly cleared his throat before he embarrassed them both. "Unless you've changed your mind, I think you'll want to open this," he said, handing Harry an envelope with the Ministry seal on it.

With everything that had happened it had completely slipped his mind about his results from the Auror exam. He examined his marks in each area and then the overall score at the bottom. "I passed," he said, not quite believing it even with the evidence right there in his hands. "It says I'm to report to the training facility on the second floor next Monday morning at seven."

Lupin clasped him on the shoulder and was grinning at him, but there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. Harry knew it was because there would be no more protecting him from what was going on. Once the training was over, he would be on the front line to protect the magical world from Voldemort.

"Are you sure you still want to do this?" Lupin asked.

He only had to think it over for a moment before answering with a firm, "yes."

Harry went inside a short while after, wanting to see if Ron had received his results as well. Remus had also told him Molly was making lunch for everyone, and after days of barely being able to keep anything down he was famished.

His friends were already seated at the table in the kitchen. He opened his mouth to ask Ron if he had gotten his marks, when Hermione squealed in delight at something in her hands and threw her arms around Ron, much to the surprise of Molly Weasley.

"That's wonderful news, dear." Mrs. Weasley congratulated her. "Harry, it's good to see you up and about. Would you like some lunch? I made sandwiches."

"Sure, thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said, sliding into a chair at the table.

She waved her wand and a plate of sandwiches appeared in the middle of the table. "Hermione has some wonderful news. She got that job at the Department of Experimental Charms."

"Thanks mum, just forget about your own child," said Ron, somewhat miffed.

"Oh, and Ron passed his Auror testing," she said with much less enthusiasm.

"Did you get your marks?" Ron asked him.

"Yeah, I passed," Harry replied. He couldn't help but notice Mrs. Weasley didn't look overly thrilled by this news.

"Congratulations, Harry," she said, her voice betraying her true feelings. "Do you need anything else?"

"Mum, we're fine," Ron answered for Harry. "You don't have to keep watching us like this."

Mrs. Weasley had been at the house every day since the trio's encounter with the Death Eaters. Ron knew she meant well, but he was beginning to feel more smothered than he ever had at The Burrow. He was sure if his mum was getting on his nerves, she was bothering Harry as well. He was just too damn polite to say anything about it.

"I'm sorry, Ronald, if my being around bothers you so much. Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with my son who has only bothered to visit me once since coming to live here."

"Oh Christ, here comes the guilt trip," he muttered under his breath.

His mother had extraordinary hearing and heard every word he said. "You watch your language, Ronald Weasley," Mrs. Weasley snapped at him. "I know Remus doesn't allow you to talk like that here. You may be starting Auror training tomorrow, but you're still my son and you'll do as I say." She threw her apron on the counter and left the kitchen in a huff.

As soon as she was gone, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow! Hey, what was that for?" He rounded on her, rubbing the spot where she had hit him.

"You could have been a bit more considerate," she reprimanded him.

"And she could have been a bit more happier that I got into the Auror program," he shot back. "She's upset because we got in," he informed Harry. "She got in this huge row with Lupin and dad this morning, going on about how we're too young and the like."

"What did they say?" Said Harry, interested.

"Dad's not too happy about it either, but he says we're old enough to make our own decisions. Lupin said basically the same thing. He tried telling mum that we're too old to be sheltered from everything that's happening, and they're not doing us any favours by preventing us from learning how to defend ourselves. You can imagine how well _that_ went over with her. Plus she's a wreck because they're having the vote today. Dad and all the other candidates are down at the Ministry waiting for the final counts to come in.

Aside from Mrs. Weasley's obvious nerves, Harry knew and could even understand why his and Ron's letters didn't exactly thrill her. She was very protective of her children and she knew there would be nothing she could do to protect him or Ron if they were Aurors. He didn't want her to be angry that they were doing this, but he couldn't _not_ do the training just to make her happy either.

"The last few days are kind of hazy," he began, putting a roast beef sandwich on his plate. "How exactly did you two get away from the Death Eaters?"

"I thought the best way to outsmart them was to find the ground where we had the greatest advantage, so Ron and I went in to muggle London," Hermione told him. Her features had paled slightly, as if she already knew where he was going with this.

"Where'd you go?" He asked, biting into his sandwich.

"We took one of those taxi things," said Ron.

He took another bite from his sandwich. "To where?"

"My old house," Hermione said in a low voice, not daring to look at him. "My dad didn't sell it."

"So you two had a good shag while I was lying passed out in some alley?" He stated calmly.

"Harry, that's not what we planned to happen," she said to him, taking it upon herself to commence damage control. "We were soaking wet and needed somewhere to wait out the storm because the last thing we wanted was to lead them back here."

Ron's jaw dropped and he gaped openly at her. She hadn't even tried to deny Harry's accusation. He knew then what happened when she had touched Harry their first night back, and why he always seemed distant and even angry whenever they had gone upstairs to see him. Without intending to, he had seen everything, and even though he had no control over what he had done Ron was angry at Harry for it. He had seen something so private and personal, something he had no right to see.

"You were just making the most of a bad situation, is that it?" Harry said sharply.

"It's not our fault. What Hermione said is true, it just happened. We didn't know what was happening to you because you were the one who wanted to split up, remember? We wanted to stay but you had to go and play the fucking hero again and try and save the world like you always do," said Ron heatedly.

Harry stood up so fast he knocked his chair to the floor. He stared down Ron, his green eyes blazing. "I did what I thought was right. It's nice to know I protected my friends so they could shack up somewhere and shag. I can't believe I actually sent Snape away so he could help find you, instead of allowing him to help me."

It was Ron's turn to stand up in fury. "Hermione and I don't have to explain ourselves to you. You never would have known what happened if she hadn't touched you. That's fine if you want to be upset about it, but there's obviously something else bothering you so why don't you tell us what you're really pissed off about, Potter?"

"Ron, let's not do this," Hermione pleaded, standing beside him.

"No, if Harry wants to have a go at us, let him. But he's using the excuse that we spent the night together to hide what he's really upset about."

Harry was breathing heavily. He felt all the control he had been working on the last few days slipping away. What he really wanted was to hit Ron in the face as bad as Ron wanted to hit him.

"You want to know what I think this is about? I think you're so bloody miserable you resent the fact that we're happy," Ron shouted, jabbing a finger at him.

"Fuck you, Ron."

"Did I hit a sore spot? Look, Harry, you're the one who made your life this way. Nobody said you couldn't be happy – you did that all your own. I think all those years at the Dursley's messed you up real good. They've convinced you that you weren't deserving of happiness, so you go around looking for anything you can to make yourself feel rotten and guilty. You're alone and miserable because you think that's what you deserve, and we can stand here and spend the rest of our lives telling you otherwise but you need to figure it out for yourself." He said what he wanted to say and now he wanted to get out of there. "You coming?" He asked Hermione when he reached the doorway.

She wordlessly shook her head at him. He wanted to tell her it was a bad idea to stay, but he knew she wouldn't listen to him. He left knowing she would try and get through to him, even thought it would be a waste of time.

"Why didn't you leave with him?" Harry asked, when she remained standing where she was.

"Because even though I may not agree with the way Ron provoked you, he's right. Harry, you can't go on like this."

"Hermione, I'm doing what I have – "

"Don't feed me that rubbish about duty and doing what has to be done. We all know what's going on and what might happen, but that doesn't mean you stop living. I know you have a lot to deal with but you don't have to go through it alone. Ron and I are here for you, but don't you dare try and make us feel guilty for what's happened between us. I'm not going to apologize for being in love with Ron."

He was caught off guard by her admission. He had figured things were pretty serious between his two best friends, but had never stopped to consider just how serious. He had enough trouble accepting them as a couple in the beginning, that he hadn't even begun to comprehend they were in love with each other.

"I thought you were okay with this – with _us_," she said, obviously referring to her relationship with Ron.

"I am."

"No, you're not," she stated, "that much is obvious."

"I may not be doing back-flips about your relationship," he said, scratching the back of his head, "but I'm happy for you two." It wasn't exactly a lie. It was more he was envious of what they had then anything else. In truth, he felt left out. They were still his best friends but now they shared something that he couldn't be a part of. "I'm going to get some air," he told her, heading for the door.

He didn't look at her as he left and she didn't try to stop him. He didn't blame her. He could barely stand being himself at the moment.

Harry walked down, beyond the boundaries of the backyard to an area of trees that were knitted close together. It had become the spot that he would go to when confining himself in his room became too much and he just needed to get out. The only other person who knew about it was already there when he arrived.

"You're studying?" He said in an incredulous tone.

"Unlike some people, I still have classes," said Ginny, looking up from her collection of notes.

He could tell by her voice she was just playing with him. She wasn't really upset that he didn't have any schoolwork to do.

"And after the comments Remus wrote on my last quiz, I really need to do well on this one."

"I'm sure he wasn't too harsh," said Harry, sitting on the grass across from her.

"You'd be surprised. I mean he's nowhere near as vulgar as Snape, but he made his point loud and clear."

"And that would be?"

"I need to do a lot better if I don't want to get anything less than Outstanding when I take my O.W.L.'s. That's why I came out here so I wouldn't be disturbed."

"Sorry, I can go," he said, getting to his feet, but Ginny grabbed his hand and dragged him back down. He had to fight down the urge not to yank his hand free. He couldn't explain it. He hadn't had any problems being in contact with other people since before yesterday. Yet there was this spark that went through him that he couldn't explain when she touched his skin. She took note of the odd way he was looking at her, before he finally broke eye contact, clearing his throat.

"I came out here to get away from mum," she told him. "She's been in a right mood since you and Ron got your Auror letters. Now you know where the infamous Weasley temper comes from," she added jokingly. "Congratulations by the way."

"Thanks. I just wish your mum had taken the news a little better."

"Well, that's mum," she stated matter-of-factly. "But she really is proud of you even if she doesn't show it."

That made him feel a little better while he watched Ginny look back down at her notes. They had been spending a lot of time out there together recently, mostly just talking about Hogwarts or Quidditch, or other subjects that required little effort to converse about. Sometimes they didn't talk at all. Just the other day they had sat out there for most of the afternoon not speaking. He enjoyed spending time with her because his defenses didn't need to be on full alert around her. He could be in a relaxed state around her. That was until she had touched him. Now he had his guard up again.

"You haven't asked me about anything that happened."

She looked up from her studies. "If you wanted to tell me about your abilities you would have told me."

"I did want to tell you," he said earnestly. "I just didn't want you to look at me differently," he said, pulling out a fistful of grass.

"I would never see you as a freak or a weirdo, Harry, if that's what you were worried about. I would never be afraid of you either," she said, meeting his eyes briefly.

He let her study in peace after that. He was content to sit there in comfortable silence and tried not to think about the way she looked when she smiled at him.

Hours later the twins came out to drag Harry and Ginny inside. Fred and George had stopped by so they could hear the announcement for the next Minister of Magic. Harry had completely forgotten about the vote, even though Ron had mentioned something to him earlier on in the day.

They went inside where Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Lupin were already gathered in the living room around the wireless. The twins left Harry and Ginny and bounded forward.

Ron shot Harry a look that Ginny caught before turning his attention back to the announcer over the wireless. When she looked to him for an explanation, Harry just sort of shrugged and looked away.

"_In a matter of moments witches and wizards around Britain will have themselves a new Minister for Magic_," the announcer's voice rang. "_We are broadcasting live from the ministry itself where all five candidates are restlessly awaiting the results of the vote. Ethan Gladstone and his team of magical specialists are professionals in matters of this kind. Every vote was personally checked and re-checked to be sure there were no spells or enchantments used to try and sway the outcome. Those of you who did – and you know who you are – had their ballots destroyed and will have no say in who our next minister will be_."

Harry looked over at Mrs. Weasley who seemed to be the most anxious of them all. She was staring so hard at the wireless it was if she was hoping that would speed up the process and get them the results already. It wasn't just Mrs. Weasley – the entire room seemed to be holding their breath, Harry among them. If it was this tense at Lupin's, he could only imagine what it was like down at the Ministry. Reporters were probably swarming around the candidates trying to get any bit of information they could, and would horde in on the winning candidate once the vote was announced.

For matters of security, none of the candidates could bring any one down to the Ministry with them. In the past when a new minister had been voted in, disgruntled family members who did not like the outcome of the vote had tried to curse the chosen candidate before they could even take the stage and make a thank you speech. Since there was no way to keep the press out that wouldn't result in a riot of some kind, all reporters were required to give up their wands and subject both themselves and their equipment to a magical inspection.

"_It looks like the Ministry High Council has the results_," the announcer said excitedly. "_Yes, they have it. It looks like they're having a discussion about it… and now they're finally ready to make the announcement_._ We're going to patch you through to Gladys Bernstein, one of the senior council members who will be making the announcement_."

There was an incredibly long pause, in which every one held their breath. Harry had never witnessed Fred and George stay in one spot, not to mention say nothing for that long. They seemed as anxious as the rest of them.

"_The High Council of the Ministry wishes to offer its congratulations to the new Minister for Magic_," Gladys's voice began. "_We welcome Arthur Weasley as Britain's new Minister of Magic_."

Mrs. Weasley was the first of them to react. If she had been a bundle of nerves before it was nothing compared to the state she was in now. Through her tears of joy she found the closest person next to her and began hugging them senseless. That person turned out to be Lupin, who was quite caught off guard and rather embarrassed at Mrs. Weasley's actions.

Fred and George whooped in triumph before their mother released Lupin and got a hold of them.

Caught up in the excitement, Ron seemed to forget about every one else in the room and leaned over to kiss Hermione. When he pulled back, he realized with horror what he had done. There was still the off chance that no one had noticed, but when he saw the twins gaping at him and his mother's shocked expression he knew he had been caught.

"You two are – you're – " Fred couldn't seem to get the words out. "You are!"

Ron wasn't in the state of mind to deny it, and not that it would have done much good. He didn't need to look at Hermione to see she was just as embarrassed. He knew the twins weren't going to let them out of this easily.

"I should have known!" George exclaimed. "How long?" He asked them.

"Since before Christmas," Ginny said in the place of Ron.

The twins eyes all but bulged out of their respective sockets. "This whole bloody time?" Fred cried. "You two have been sneaking around since then?"

"We weren't sneaking around," Ron snapped, finding himself suddenly angry that Fred was implying their relationship was some kind of illicit affair.

"You knew?" George said to Ginny. Then he looked at Harry who appeared as un-shocked by the news as his sister. "Did every one know but us?"

"I certainly didn't know," said Mrs. Weasley.

Ron wasn't sure why he was expecting some kind of reproachful look from his mother, but she must have still been caught up in the excitement because it never came. She turned to Lupin and said, "did you know about this, Remus?"

"Well, I had my suspicions," Lupin carefully lied.

Fred slapped George hard on the shoulder. "Oi! You owe me. Pay up mate,"

"You had a bet on us getting together?" Hermione said, not really sure why that news surprised her.

"Just a small one," Fred said innocently. "George bet me you wouldn't get together until after graduation and I said before the end of sixth year."

"Technically, with Hogwarts closed they won't finish sixth year, so this bet isn't really valid anymore," George said.

"It is so!" Fred protested.

While the twins argued over whether or not their bet was still valid, Ron seemed to forget his embarrassment for the time being to tell them off for betting on their relationship in the first place.

Ginny leaned over and whispered to Harry, "their little bet should be the least of Ron's worries."

Harry understood her meaning exactly. The twins would have months of teasing to make up for. While the celebrating continued around Lupin's, he had the feeling the twins would be stopping by a lot more now.


	33. The Grueling Life of Auror Training

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: The Grueling Life of Auror Training

The Auror training center was unlike anything Ron had seen before. It looked to be half the size of the Ministry, but knew it had to have been magically enlarged somehow. The floors were bare except for painted dots and other shapes placed at random intervals throughout. There was a single bench sitting adjacent to the entrance, and the only enclosed area appeared to be a weight room from his vantage point. He knew from Moody that the Auror program only ever allowed a small number to train, so he wondered what such a large space was needed for.

Besides himself and Harry, there only looked to be about ten other people. He recognized a couple as Hogwarts graduates from a year or two ago, and the rest he had never seen before.

He stood beside Harry just inside the entrance where everyone else was huddled around. He and Harry weren't exactly on friendly terms, but he felt better just having someone there he knew.

The entrance door burst open and the noisy chatter dropped to a quiet murmuring. A single woman entered wearing a dark as night black robe with fitting pants and boots to match. Her brown hair was cut to just above her chin and even with the stony expression plastered on her face she was definitely one of the better witches he had laid eyes on. He and Harry shared a sidelong glance and it was easy to see his friend was thinking the same thing, probably along with every other bloke in the room.

"My name is Mackenzie," she said in a raised voice. "I will be your Auror instructor for this entire training program. Those of you that managed to make it to this point – some of you, just barely, will appreciate how involved the testing was. We only take the best. There are no second chances with this job. You screw up once and it'll probably cost you your life. I'm not here to coddle or mother anyone. If that's what you're looking for try Muggle Relations on the next floor." She paused briefly to see if anyone dared to move, but everyone remained standing firmly. "I'm here to make sure you stay alive when you get out _there_. I'm going to push you until bent over heaving, telling me you can't do anymore – and then I'm going to push you some more. By the end of your training all of you will hate me – and probably by the end of the first week many of you will refer to me using various explicitives when you think I'm not listening – but you'll thank me when all you've learned here saves your arse some day.

"As I'm sure most of you already know, the Auror office has not taken on any new candidates in the last three years. All the testing was extremely stringent, and no one seemed capable of getting past the written part. However, due to recent circumstances the Ministry has ordered us to change our stands every so slightly, since the number of Auror's has diminished by more than one quarter in the last two years and by more than one half in recent weeks due to certain events. The tests are still the same, we've just made adjustments to the scoring, so every single one of you can take comfort in the fact that without the Ministry's intervention, you wouldn't be here. We weren't told to adjust the program itself, so don't think you're getting a free ride. Six months of training will include vigorous endurance tests, spell casting – defensive and offensive, hand to hand combat – " She stopped when she heard the anxious murmuring among the assembled trainees. "If you weren't expecting to get your hands dirty, the offer for Magical Relations still stands," she said, and the murmuring desisted. "As many of the Aurors here can attest to, there are occasions when using your wand will be useless. If you're in a small, enclosed area or surrounded by a perimeter of shield charms, casting a spell could ricochet off your surroundings killing both you and your enemy. About half way through training, you will learn a variety of poisons and antidotes you will need to be able to make with your eyes shut. A med-wizard from St. Mungo's will come in and spend about a month, teaching you all about it. There are also other surprises that will pop up along the way," she said, grinning wickedly at them.

"Endurance will be an on-going theme throughout your training," Mackenzie continued. "Every morning before you get here, you will complete a five mile run – and any of you who are stupid enough to cheat, I'll know. At the end of each week we'll measure your endurance, and if I see it has dropped or not improved, you'll be running ten miles the next week, and I'll just keep adding on the distance until you learn or decide to quit, which will make my job easier. I'll tell you right now not all of you will make it through training. The Ministry may think we're too tough, but we will not pass anyone who is less than Auror caliber material.

"As you've already noticed, there is no one around you over the age of twenty-one. The Auror office has decided we need younger, more agile candidates, so we've separated you into two groups. Those over the age of twenty-five are being trained by Brandon Cooper. What we didn't want was any hostility between the groups and since they have more knowledge and experience, I doubt you would stand a chance against them this early on. But we will be going up against them in training sessions in the coming weeks, so be prepared.

"To get things started," she said, her shoulders straightening, "I'm going to pair you up and you're going to try and break each other's shield charms. I don't want to see anything deadly used, but there will be no friendliness. Use everything you know to break through their barriers, and I want your opponent to feel it when you do. Then maybe the next time they'll perform one strong enough to withstand an attack."

Mackenzie was all business. She didn't ask if there were any questions. She went straight to pairing up everyone in the room. Harry was paired with a guy named McMillan who was about two inches taller than him, and at least three years older than he. They were to spend five minutes trying to break through the other person's defenses, then switch and do the same to the other person. It was his job to break through McMillan's shield charm first. It took quite a few failed tries before he was able to find a weak spot down near his ankle and penetrate the bubble. It only stung him a bit, but it was enough that he was sent stumbling back. When it was Harry's turn to cast the shield charm, he was proud to note that it took McMillan almost as long to penetrate his. He had cast his charm a split second too late, and McMillan's hex hit him in the leg and he fell hard on his back. He couldn't even chance a look around to see how Ron was fairing because McMillan was already raising his wand for his next attack.

Mackenzie kept them at it for an hour, before calling them in and showing the assembled group the flaws in their defense and how to erase any weak spots. Then she sent them back out to try it again, and it wasn't until she was satisfied every one was doing it properly – almost an hour and a half later, did she allow them a brief water break.

Harry almost felt like he shouldn't sit down because he wasn't sure if he would be able to get back up again, but his legs were tired and sore so he gave into the temptation. He sat on the floor beside Ron, but neither one of them spoke, trying to retain the energy they had left. Mackenzie obviously was not going to cut them any breaks because it was their first day.

He had drained about half his water bottle when Mackenzie started ordering them back to their feet. The next session of training was about to start.

Ron stared up at his ceiling from where he lay sprawled out on his bed. He and Harry had got home from training twenty minutes earlier. They had muttered hello to Lupin and then trudged up the stairs to pass out on their respected beds. He had never been more sore or tired in his life, and he was going to use his remaining strength to tell whoever was knocking at their door to go away, when the person took it upon them self to walk in.

Hermione took in the sight of them lying half dead on their beds and said, "rough first day?" She didn't even have the decency to hide her smile.

"You laugh now, but wait 'til you start the grueling life of work next week," Ron said to her.

"So it was that bad?" She said, with sympathy in her voice this time.

"I've got muscles aching in parts I didn't know I had," he complained as she sat down on the side of his bed. "But you want to know what the worst part is? We have to run five miles every day before training. We're going have to get up at five thirty just to make it to training on time! But you don't hear Harry complaining because he fancies Mackenzie."

"Shut up. I do not," denied Harry, sitting up just enough so he could toss a pillow at Ron. It caught his friend in the face.

"Who's Mackenzie?" Hermione asked.

"She's the Auror trainer," Ron replied.

"The one Ron couldn't stop drooling over the second she walked in.," Harry supplied.

"Oi! I was not." He tossed back the pillow Harry had thrown at him and it landed on his chest.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

"She's attractive enough I suppose," he admitted, meeting her gaze because otherwise it would make him look guilty. "But she's not my type. I like brainy, know-it-all bookworms," he said, grinning up at her. He heard Harry groan in disgust from his bed. "Don't you have an Occlumency lesson to get to?" He said in a not-so subtle way.

Harry glanced at the alarm clock and grimaced. It was almost seven o'clock. Snape would probably already be downstairs waiting for him. He knew for a fact he wouldn't go easy on him even after the day he had. If anything, he would push and insult him more tonight. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up to stretch his aching muscles.

"We should go down too," she said to Ron. "Remus said he wanted to talk to us."

"All right," he said with a sigh. "Just give me a minute."

"I'll see you guys later," Harry said dejectedly.

After Harry was gone, Ron pulled Hermione down on top of him.

"I thought you were tired," she said, a smile tugging on her lips.

"I am. That's why I said I needed a minute," he said and leaned up to kiss her deeply, lacing his fingers through her hair and pulling her closer. "How was your day?" He asked when they broke apart.

"Well, I helped Ginny a bit with her schoolwork," she said, resting her chin on his chest, "and then I had Lupin teach me the latest chapter in our Defense Against the Dark Arts text."

"You're killing me," Ron groaned. "You've got this whole week to do nothing, you should be enjoying it."

"I need a completed magical education if I want to anywhere in the ministry," she told him.

"I still say you're mental," he said, though he was only joking.

"Then you can add liking mental girls to that list of yours," she said teasingly as she moved off of him and dragged him to his feet.

They headed downstairs to see what Remus wanted, and found him already in the kitchen with Tonks and they looked to be arguing over something. They stopped when they saw her and Ron in the doorway.

"Sorry, we can come back," she told them.

"That's all right, Hermione," Lupin told her. "Tonks and I were finished anyways."

Judging by the scowl plastered on Tonks face, the Auror didn't think the conversation was over at all. Her expression changed when she saw Ron slump over to the table, holding his head up with his arms. "Training went that well, Ron?"

"If by well you mean that my arms and legs hurt so much they feel like they're going to fall off, then yes, it was a bloody wonderful first day," he said sarcastically.

Tonks chuckled. "Who'd you end up with – Cooper or Mackenzie?"

"Mackenzie," he answered.

"You'll like her better than Cooper anyways," she said in a teasing voice and winked at him.

"So I've heard," Hermione said, forehead creased and a slight frown on her face.

"This won't take long," Remus interjected, trying to spare Ron any further embarrassment. "There's just one small matter Tonks and I wanted to speak to you about." He paused, waiting until they were both looking at him before he went any further. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Molly has expressed some concerns about the living arrangements here, now that she is fully aware of your relationship." Before either one of them could look too horrified or guilty he plunged on. "Of course I assured her that you two were both mature and responsible teenagers and that I haven't witnessed any behaviour that would indicate otherwise. But I promised I would sit down and talk with you anyways. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"No," Hermione answered in a small voice while Ron vigorously shook his head.

"You're free to go then," Lupin said to them both.

He didn't think it was possible for them to get out of there as fast as they did, especially Ron who looked about ready to pass out.

"Thanks for your help," Remus said sarcastically.

"You looked like you were handling it fine on your own. I didn't want to interrupt," said Tonks. "I still say it would have been much more fun to watch if you had let Molly talk to them."

"If she had seen the looks on their faces, Molly would have flooed Ron straight out of here. As it is, if it were any one other than Hermione she probably wouldn't allow them to stay in the same house. But I suppose what Molly doesn't know won't hurt her."

Tonks snickered. "It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for." She crossed her arms and looked at Remus. "Don't think I've forgotten what we were talking about before Ron and Hermione came in."

"Tonks, there is nothing more to discuss. It's my decision to make, not yours."

"Do you plan on telling your house guests about it?"

"No," he said in a stern voice. "And you won't say anything to them unless they ask why I'm not here. Hermione will probably figure it out for herself though."

"Remus, they're not ashamed of you because you happen to transform into a wild animal once a month."

"That's not what this is about," he said, growing irritated. It was always that much harder to keep his emotions under control before a full moon, and they were on full overload the night before, like they were then. "They shouldn't have to see me go through that."

"They won't see you. You would be in the shed. That is what it was built for, and with Snape's potion you'll be as harmless as a pet poodle."

"You sound like them," he said, referring to the four other occupants of the house. "I hardly even bother to correct them anymore for calling him Snape. I don't think I have the right toughness for looking after teenagers."

"You're changing the subject," Tonks said. "But why should they respect him, when he's been nothing but a right bastard to all of them, especially to Harry. If his father were alive – " She let the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

"I know," Remus said quietly. "Things would be very different." He sighed deeply. "Severus punishes him because he's a mirror image of James in almost every way. But there's too much of Lily in him for Harry to be exactly like James. I think Sirius used to forget that."

"Now that we're officially way off topic, I still say you should tell them you plan on spending the night of your transformation somewhere else. At least hear what they have to say."

"I know what they're going to say, and that's exactly why I'm not telling them."

Tonks shook her head. "It's almost scary how much alike you and Harry are. You both are too self-sacrificing for your own good. I would have thought after spending almost a month in a house with four teenagers would have caused you to lighten up a bit, but I can see you're still the same stuffy professor you always were." She watched his back visibly stiffen and knew she had struck a nerve. She knew this close to a full moon he rattled easy, but she was going to say what was on her mind. "You've been hiding behind your _condition_ your whole life. I know you'll never have a normal life but it's time you stopped using it as excuse."

"Are you finished?" He asked her.

"For now," she said, opening a cupboard door.

He turned around in his chair, hearing her rummaging inside the cupboard. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to eat before I go back to Headquarters. Now that there's only adults there, there's never anything good to eat."

"Maybe you should live here," he said dryly.

"Ah, no thanks. I think you're going to have your hands full enough with these four," she said, biting into a cookie. "I'll see you tomorrow, Moony." She gave him a quick pat on the back and walked out the front door.

The scary part was he had a feeling her last comment would prove to be true.

After their second day of training, Harry didn't think it was possible to feel any more tired than he had the day before. He was very wrong. The five-mile run at five thirty that morning was probably a large contributor to that. All he wanted was to shower and then fall asleep. He could tell that Ron desperately wanted the same thing.

When they walked into the house, those thoughts were put on hold when the sounds of people arguing could be heard coming from the dining room. He and Ron went to investigate, finding Ginny, Hermione, Tonks, and Lupin all standing near each other.

"Hey, what's going on?" Ron asked.

"That's a good question, Ron," said Tonks. "Why don't you tell them, Remus?"

Harry could see the very last thing Lupin wanted was to involve them, even when it was obvious Ginny and Hermione already knew what was going on.

"Tonks is mistaken. There's nothing more to say," Lupin said. "I can't afford to waste any more arguing. I've already cut the time too close."

"It's a full moon tonight," Hermione explained to them.

"Aren't you going to transform here?" Harry questioned him.

"Yes, he is," Tonks replied for Lupin.

"No, I'm not," he said firmly. "I already have a place somewhere in town."

"Remus, this is your home. You should be able to stay here," Ginny said to him.

"It's too late to go anywhere else," Hermione added. "Unless you planned on apparating somewhere, but it's too close to sundown for you to apparate in your condition."

Tonks was looking triumphant now. They had stalled long enough that he was left with no choice but to spend his transformation in the shed out back.

"We want you here," Harry said, speaking on everyone's behalf. "None of us care that you transform – you're still a human being. You don't have to hide that from us."

"I guess I don't stand a chance against the five of you, now do I?" Lupin said after a moment's consideration.

"No, you don't," said Tonks and begin pushing him towards the back door. "Snape already put the Wolfsbane out in the shed for you."

The four teenagers followed them out, but Tonks stopped them at the sunroom. "You four, stay here. It's just a precaution," she added afterwards.

They knew there was no point in arguing, so they were content to stand by the sunroom windows and watch Tonks guide Remus into the steel shed. She closed the door and put several large paddock locks on the handle. Then she took out her wand and pointed it at each one of the locks, locking them shut. Then she started talking to Remus through the door.

Harry had seen Lupin transform once back in third year and it had been a horrible sight. He would never forget the pain on his face as his skin stretched and transformed while bones elongated and shortened. It had been almost too much to endure.

The sun had almost completely set by that point. Hermione stood on his one side, huddled close to Ron, while Ginny stood on his other, looking worried.

"He'll be all right," he said, close to her ear. "He goes through this every month.

"I know," she said. "It's just a little different to be here while it happens."

Her hand brushed up against his and after a moment of debate, he closed his hand around hers. They didn't look at each other, keeping their gaze focused on Tonks and the shed.

They saw the Auror back up slightly and knew the transformation must be starting.

Harry's eyes widened and he stumbled backwards against the wall, clutching his chest.

"Harry!" Ginny cried, rushing back to him, but Ron grabbed her arm to hold her back.

He had never felt pain like this before. His skin felt like it was tearing itself apart and every bone in his body felt like it was breaking and then realigning itself. The pain was excruciating and he knew he was going to be sick.

He didn't know how he was able to but he managed to stumble inside and make it to the bathroom before he threw up. He vomited three or four times before the nauseating pain went away and his head cleared.

"Harry?" Hermione's concerned voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Give me a minute," he rasped.

He washed his face and took some long, steadying breaths before he walked shakily back out into the hall.

"I'm fine now," he said, seeing their worried expressions.

"You felt his transformation, didn't you?" Hermione said in understanding.

He nodded weakly.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she said, chewing her bottom lip anxiously.

"No, I'm fine now," Harry insisted. "My defenses were down. I didn't think it would be so powerful. I'll know for next time."

"Harry, if Remus knew this happened – "

"He's not going to know because no one's going to tell," he said, staring pointedly at Hermione and then at Ron and Ginny. "Next time I'll have had almost four weeks of Occlumency lessons with Snape, and I can stay in the house if it still bothers me." When they were still staring at him uncertainly, he said, "look, he shouldn't be shoved off somewhere like an animal. He deserves better than that."

At the mention of Occlumency, he realized that perhaps a true test to see if he had improved would be to witness one of Lupin's transformations and feel nothing. If he could make it through something as awful as that, he could probably stand anything for that matter. Or at least that's what he thought.

Tonks walked in then and they could not say anything more on the matter. If she noticed their sudden silence she made no comment of it.

"He's all right," she informed them. "The transformation went fine. He's probably curled up sleeping right about now."

Harry straightened and tried not to make it look like he had just spent the last five minutes throwing up. He shot Hermione a look that said she better wipe the worried expression off her face or Tonks was going to figure it out.

For the moment though, Tonks was absorbed in telling them about the Quidditch match that had just started broadcasting on the wireless in the last twenty minutes. Harry gladly followed her into the den. Relaxing to a Quidditch match was just what he needed then.


	34. Tension

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: Tension

The third week into their Auror training, Harry had already begun to notice the visible effects that the training was having on him. He was stronger, quicker, and his reflexes seemed almost inhumanly fast. It no longer took a great effort to run five miles in the morning, though he wasn't as keen as Ron who felt the need to run nine or ten. Quite often he would turn back and Ron would keep going for an extra mile or two – like last Saturday morning. Only this time when Harry turned back he noticed something he had missed on all his previous runs. He didn't know how long it had been there but there was a for sale sign hanging in one of the windows of a small, well-kept house owned by muggles. He hadn't even been sure why he had stopped to look at it. It wasn't like he needed a place to live, and yet a tiny part of him thought he did. He didn't linger there too long because he had been afraid Ron might come back. Now, one week later, whenever he didn't have Ron with him, he would take his time jogging passed it.

It was presently Monday morning and he was preparing himself for another grueling week of training under the watchful eye of Mackenzie. When he thought back on the years of having Oliver Wood as the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, all that seemed like child's play compared to what he was doing now. But no one seemed to thrive off all the drills Mackenzie put them through more than Ron. He seemed to have boundless amounts of energy, and whenever he got knocked down by a curse he got right back up and gave it to his training partner ten times worse. The endless spent training had clearly improved Ron's spell casting to a level that now rivaled his own. It was Ron's nature to be aggressive and hostile, but now that he was channeling that energy into training, it made him one of the strongest in their class. He had been dueling with a guy named Roberts the previous week, and when he had forgotten to cast his shield charm in time, Ron's hex had hit him straight in the chest knocking him out cold. Roberts was gone for two days after that and when he returned he still looked to be suffering from the lasting effects of Ron's attack. Mackenzie loved Ron's attitude and the serious manner in which he took everything they did. He quickly became one of her favourites, but something she did that morning made Harry wonder what his friend had done to fall out of her good graces.

He, Ron, and the rest of the trainees were stretching and going through some warm up charms, when Mackenzie walked in being trailed by a tall blond individual with a permanent look of smugness planted on his pale face. Harry saw Ron stiffen beside him and a scowl formed on his own face.

"Listen up everyone," Mackenzie's voice boomed. The trainees stopped what they were doing and focused on their instructor. "There are no exceptions when it comes to taking a person on once training has already begun. The rules are clear on this. However, when the ministry itself steps in, rules have to be bent," she said, her look conveying her distaste with the ministry's decision. "At the request of the Ministry High Council, Draco Malfoy has been granted permission to enter the Auror program. He has taken all the same tests as the rest of you, and I have informed the council that I will not slow down my training so that Mr. Malfoy here can catch up. He knows he's going to be responsible for getting himself up to speed, and if he's incapable of that then perhaps another chosen profession would be in his best interests."

Malfoy did not look fazed at all by her words. He looked so calm, they could have been discussing the weather, not a rigorous training program. His expression only changed when his gaze met Ron and Harry's. He glowered openly at the two of them.

"That son of a bitch has no interest in being an Auror," Ron muttered to Harry. "I bet he's only here to be a spy for his band of Death Eaters."

Though Ron's voice was barely above a whisper, Mackenzie could see him talking to Harry. "Weasley, why don't you partner up with Malfoy today and show him just how much catching up he has to do."

"I'll work with Malfoy," Harry spoke up, ignoring the look Ron was sending him. Malfoy could get under his skin too, but he could probably do a better job of controlling his temper than Ron.

"I'm sorry, Potter, did you go deaf over the weekend?" Mackenzie glared at him. "Because I distinctly said I wanted Weasley to work with him. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," Harry answered through clenched teeth, watching Malfoy smirk at him.

"Good," she responded with a satisfied nod. "All right, pair up everyone – Roberts, you're with me since we have an odd number now. We're going to continue with what we started on Friday – disarming an active target. Remember, no shield charms. Let's go!"

Scowling visibly, Ron walked with Malfoy to the far side of the room. There was nothing more he wanted than to hex Malfoy into oblivion, but he knew he would have to show restraint.

"Potter still coming to your rescue, eh?" Malfoy smirked as the two of them separated. "I suppose he's the only reason you lasted this long."

Ron clenched the fist holding his wand. There was no way he could let Malfoy provoke him this early on, otherwise he was never going to make it through the next five months of training. "You want me to disarm you first?" He spoke through clenched teeth. He was already planning on ways to send him hurtling against the back wall.

"No, I think I should go first," said Malfoy. "After all, I am the one who needs the practice." He pulled out his wand and aimed it at Ron.

Ron had no warning of Malfoy's attack, but it had become second nature to learn the signs of attack that Malfoy had barely flicked the wrist holding the wand before Ron jumped out of the way. Different props had been set up to act as cover and Ron dove behind the nearest object he could find. To make it a bit more challenging, the objects had been transfigured to disappear after a short time. They only provided two or three seconds of cover before you had to be on the move again – and Ron was constantly on the move. Malfoy was more relentless then anyone else he had faced so far.

After ten minutes of this, Ron felt something strike him in the foot and both his feet became as heavy as lead. He couldn't move. Malfoy moved closer to where he was standing and fired off a curse that hit him in the midsection. With his feet immovable, he had only his hands to brace himself for the fall, which didn't help much. He wheezed loudly as all the air came rushing out of lungs the second his head hit back against the flooring. Once he was down, Malfoy released his feet from the curse.

"What the hell was that?" Ron snarled. "You were supposed to disarm me, not use a binding charm on my feet then hit me at point blank range with a bloody curse."

"I disarmed you, didn't I?" Malfoy gloated. "Mackenzie never said how I had to do it."

It took Ron a moment to recover before he was back on his feet. With a firm grip on his wand, he glared menacingly at Malfoy. "It's my turn now."

At the end of the day, Ron's body was more sore than it had been since the first week of training. He was in a rotten mood and wanted nothing more than to spend a few hours in the weight room, burning off his frustrations, but he was supposed to meet Hermione so they could go down to the small pub through the magical barrier and grab something to eat. Since she had started her job, they barely saw each other for more than a couple of hours each day. But by late evening he was too exhausted from training and she from work that it didn't really count as time spent together. So he had suggested that when he and Harry were done training they head down to the pub for a bite to eat. She didn't mind working until then, so he had told her he would come get her when they were done. Of course that had been before Malfoy had gotten thrown into the mix.

He had spent the whole time partnered with the Slytherin, who even though had missed quite a lot, already knew enough practical magic that he wasn't too far behind the others. He went out of his way to show Ron that, using extra powerful spells to knock him off his feet, not caring if he injured him or not. Ron had refused to sink to his level until near the end when he really started to lose his temper. After Malfoy had attacked him without even allowing him to draw his wand, he had cast a spell that sent the Slytherin flying back so that he collided against the wall. It was a few minutes before Malfoy was able to get to his feet again. After that, he didn't seem as keen to make Ron's temper snap.

That did little to improve Ron's mood, so when he and Harry stepped out of the locker room into the hallway, he all but bit Harry's head off when he asked if he was all right.

"Fine, never better," Ron snapped.

"Why don't you get Hermione and I'll meet you guys there?" Harry suggested.

Ron grunted his agreement and rode the left up to the fourth floor. He needed a few minutes alone to get his temper under control. If he didn't, Hermione was going to know there was something wrong before he even opened his mouth.

He had never been in the Department for Experimental Charms before, so that served as a helpful distraction. He asked the receptionist behind the desk where Hermione Granger's office was and he got directed to the end of a short corridor.

She was seated behind a large desk, hunched over a pile of notes, writing furiously on a piece of paper beside her. He knocked on her open door to announce his presence. She looked up immediately and her face lit up when she saw it was him.

He plastered a fake smile to his face. "Ready to go?" He asked her, stepping inside.

She nodded. "Just let me file these away." She began putting the papers she had been reading into a large filing cabinet beside her desk.

"Hermione, do you have that folder I asked you to look through?" Said a voice from behind Ron.

Ron turned to see a man with short, brown hair walk into her office. He looked a bit surprised to see Ron standing there, before turning his attention back to Hermione.

Hermione walked around the desk and handed him a thick folder. "I made a few suggestions," she told him.

"We can go through them first thing tomorrow," he said to her. "I don't want to burn you out. You've been working a lot of hours lately – not that I'm complaining," he said, giving her a warm smile.

Ron forcibly cleared his throat and Hermione took the hint. "Ron, this is Jack, he's the director of the Experimental Charms Department."

Jack held out his hand and Ron shook it, probably with a bit more force then was necessary. But the other man didn't flinch or show his discomfort. He let go, knowing how furious Hermione would be if he damaged her boss's hand. Hermione, sensing the mounting tension, said good-bye to Jack and excused herself and Ron from the room. They didn't speak until they were back out in the main hallway.

"What's wrong?" She asked him.

"Wrong? There's nothing wrong," he answered a bit too quickly, pressing the button for the lift.

"Oh yes there is," she said. "You've only just met Jack, so there's no possible way you can hate him already. So there must be something else."

The lift appeared and the doors parted to reveal an empty cart. They stepped in and Hermione pressed the button that would take them to the Atrium. She looked at him expectantly, still waiting for an answer.

"You never told me he was good looking," he said, staring at the lift door.

"Excuse me?" She said incredulously.

"No wonder you don't mind working all those extra hours."

Fuming, Hermione hit the emergency stop button and the lift groaned to a halt between levels. "You know how much this job means to me, so I don't appreciate what you're implying. Why don't you just tell me what's really bothering you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He leaned over and started the lift up again.

He was grateful they were only a few floors away from their stop, so he could get out of that confined space and not have to endure an interrogation from Hermione.

"What's he doing here?" He heard her hiss once they stepped off the lift.

Ron knew which _he_ she was talking about immediately. Malfoy was exiting the lift directly in front of them, who was still in his training robes. He shot them a scornful look.

"I see with Fudge gone, they'll let just anyone in here." His gray eyes cold as he stared down Hermione.

"It looks that way," she countered, matching his gaze.

"So how does it feel, Weasley, now that your pathetic excuse for a father is actually running this place? Maybe your family can finally get that addition on to your one room house," he said with a sneer. "I bet he's already working on some law that will allow werewolves and other filth to be accepted as peaceful members of society," he said, speaking as if the very idea was laughable.

Ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him to walk away, Ron grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes and said in a deadly voice, "I'd be watching my back if I were you. I know your mother sent those Death Eaters after Harry and I know there's no bloody way you joined the Auror program so you could help save the world. So if I find out you're out to get Harry, what I did to you today in training is just a fraction of the pain you're going to feel."

Malfoy shoved Ron off of him and drew his wand. Ron had his drawn almost as fast.

"He murdered my father!" Malfoy spat.

"Your father tortured him for days and was planning on giving him to You-Know-Who. I'd say he got what was coming to him," said a spiteful Ron. If Malfoy knew what had happened to his father then he at least been in contact with certain Death Eaters, which gave Ron even more reason to hate him.

The seconds ticked by as he and Malfoy stood in a stand off position until surprisingly it was Malfoy who pocketed his wand first. He simply walked away, saying nothing.

"I think that had to be the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do," Hermione admonished.

Ron, who was still astounded that Malfoy had just given up and walked away said, "Hermione, not now."

"You drew your wand at him inside a Ministry building. What if someone had seen you?"

He started walking, not answering her.

"Why didn't you tell me Malfoy was in the Auror program?" She said, her voice having lost some of its edge.

"He just started today," he told her. "And I didn't want you to worry that I couldn't keep my temper under control while I'm around him."

"Well, you just blew that theory out the water," she said bluntly.

"Look, I was partnered with him all day and didn't kill him, so I think I can handle it."

Hermione didn't think that was funny at all. "Maybe he just wants to become an Auror."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. The only thing he's interested in is making our lives miserable. You heard what he said about Harry murdering his father. He's out for revenge."

"Ron, you don't know that for sure," though she didn't sound like she disagreed with him. "I dislike him as much as you do, but – "

"I don't dislike him – I _hate_ him. And whether this wanting to become an Auror thing is an act or not, as long as I live I will _never_ trust a Malfoy," he said, his voice sounding almost venomous, before walking off.

At that time of day, the pub was filled to capacity. People would get off work and stop by for a quick drink before heading home, or have their evening meal there. Harry felt a bit out of place at first, being there by himself while he waited for Ron and Hermione to show up, but he soon found some familiar faces among the patrons. Lavender and Parvati were seated in a booth with Neville and Seamus. Parvati waved him over.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted him. "How's the Auror training going?"

"Er, it's fine," he said, a little puzzled as how she had known about it in the first place.

"Hermione told me," she said, seeing his surprised look. "I ran into her last weekend while I was in Diagon Alley. She told me all about it."

He had never pictured her and Hermione as friends, but he supposed stranger things had happened.

"Look, there's Dean and Ginny," said Pavarti, waving them over much the same way she had done with Harry.

"I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be back," Harry told them. He took off before Dean and Ginny were halfway to the table.

With the training, he wasn't supposed to drink anything, but he supposed a butterbeer wouldn't hurt. Besides, he had to order something so it wouldn't appear as though he had just left to avoid seeing Ginny and Dean together. He had seen them together at school, so he didn't understand why it was bothering him so much now.

He spotted Ron and Hermione enter the pub. Ron headed his way, while Hermione stopped to say hello to Lavender and the others.

"Mackenzie would kill you if she saw you drinking that," Ron said to him, but that didn't stop him from ordering a butterbeer of his own.

Hermione came over a short while later, saying, "I didn't think it would be possible to carry on a conversation with those two if it didn't involve gossip or boys. But I suppose after being at school together for five years and then not seeing them for months can make you find some things in common." She was obviously referring to Lavender and Pavarti.

Harry found it strange that she only seemed to be talking to him and Ron was ignoring her altogether.

"I'll see you over there," Ron said to him, picking up his butterbeer and heading over to the table where their friends were seated.

When Ron was out of earshot, which didn't take long considering how crowded the pub was, he leaned over and asked, "did you two have a row on the way over?"

"It was Malfoy," was all she needed to say.

He should have figured as much. "So Ron told you he's in the Auror program?" He asked, taking a long drink from his butterbeer.

"No," she responded. "We had a little run in with him and I figured it out."

Harry tensed. He didn't think even Malfoy would be stupid enough to try something his first day at the Ministry. "Did he try something? "

"Not really, no," she said, not wanting Harry to go off the same way Ron had. "He was just the same as always, and Ron wouldn't let it go."

Malfoy had always been a sore spot for Ron, and after the day he had it was no wonder he had no tolerance left for the Slytherin. He could see how worried she was about Ron's behaviour. "He had a rough day, you should give him a break. He would never actually harm Malfoy."

She wasn't so sure about that anymore after having witnessed what she had. She didn't even want to consider the possibility of what might have happened if Malfoy hadn't walked away. But she didn't want to think about that anymore. It would only lead to giving Malfoy the satisfaction of continuing to disrupt their lives. "Are you hiding over here?" She asked, quickly changing the topic.

"No, I'm not hiding," he said, a little sharper then he intended. He was caught off guard by the abrupt change of subject.

Harry was a very private but person, but sometimes – like that moment, he was very easy to read. "I thought you'd be over there with everyone from school that you haven't seen in ages."

"There's plenty of time to catch up," he said in a nonchalant voice, taking anoter sip from his butterbeer. He watched as their table erupted into laughter over something and Dean throw his arm around Ginny's shoulder. He looked away, scolding himself for doing so. _God, you're so pathetic, Potter_.

"Are you going to come over there with me?" Hermione asked him.

He straightened and placed his half empty bottle on the bar. "I think I'm going to head home now. I'm tired."

He looked absolutely miserable and she was pretty sure she knew the cause of his misery. "Harry – "

"Hermione, please don't say it," he interrupted gently. "Just leave this alone, okay?"

He waited for her to nod, as if it were a silent promise on her behalf never to bring it up again. Then he walked out of there, wondering what had happened to make the sight of Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas together affect him so much.


	35. Distractions

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: Distractions

Though Hermione was an earlier riser, she still didn't quite understand Harry's urgency to bring her and Ron somewhere that early in the morning. Ron grumbled about it, but then he seemed to grumble about almost anything these days. Since Malfoy had joined the Auror program more than a week earlier, he seemed to be stuck in a permanent grouchy mood. At first, he had tried to hide it, but it was all too obvious what was bothering him that it did not take her long to figure out what was going on. He seemed dead set on finding out the real reason the Slytherin was there. Though he had promised her he wouldn't go after Malfoy deliberately – not because she cared about the Slytherin, but because she didn't want anything to happen to Ron – the more she began to wonder if he would keep his word. She hated to doubt Ron like that, but it must have taken incredible restraint on his part not to have harmed him yet.

"Are you going to tell us where we're going yet?" Ron said as they walked. He knew the path they were taking quite well. It was the one he and Harry would run through almost every morning, but that still didn't tell him what their destination was.

"You'll see soon enough," was all the answer Harry gave him.

"Since when did you get all secretive?" She asked, throwing a quizzical look his way.

"He's always been like that, or haven't you noticed?" Shot Ron.

She tensed. She looked to see what Harry's response would be, and to her surprise he was smiling. She wondered when the two of them had switched roles. Ron, who walked around brooding most of the time, while Harry was smiling and even cracking the occasional joke. It was an odd sight indeed to see how much the two of them had changed.

"You're just going to have to trust me," he said to them both. "Another couple of minutes and we'll be there."

Hermione still had no clue what _there_ was. There was nothing around them except the open country and the occasional small neighbourhood of houses, so when Harry stopped in front of a house with a front porch and about half the size of the Lupin home, she was even more confused than before.

He turned to his friends. "What do you think?"

"It's a bit small," she replied, examining the house more closely.

"Not for one or two people," he countered.

She understood exactly what was going on then. "Harry, you didn't buy this did you?"

"Not exactly," he said, watching Ron's eyes widen as he stared at him in astonishment. "I sort of rented it," he told them, scratching the back of his head uncertainly.

"What the bloody hell for?" Ron demanded, staring at him in utter disbelief.

"I thought it might be nice to have a place of my own," he answered, not taking offense to Ron's outburst.

"Did you tell Remus about this?" She asked him.

"No, not yet," he admitted, the smile disappearing off his face. He was sure Lupin would support his decision to live on his own, but he didn't want him to think his reasoning behind it was because he didn't want to live with him. It was complicated – he wasn't even sure he could explain it to Lupin. "Let's go inside and I'll show you around," he suggested.

Ron grunted some incoherent response and marched up the front steps and into the house first, leaving Hermione and Harry alone outside.

"He'll be okay," she said to him. "He just needs some time to adjust to it." Even as she said it she knew Ron would never admit that Harry moving out bothered him.

"It's not that I don't want to live there," he started, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "I don't want you guys to think I'm not happy with all of us there, I just – I need something else." His face was serious now, and had that look Hermione had grown all too accustomed to seeing on him since the day they met.

"It's okay, Harry, I understand," she told him, and she meant it. She may not have understood him as well as she understood Ron – mainly because he had the tendency to wear his emotions on his sleeves – but she knew him well enough to know that this was probably the right decision for him to make. She linked her arm through his and led them both up the front steps of the porch.

"Maybe you should talk to him," said Harry as they stopped just outside the door.

"Talk to who?"

"Ron." He felt her arm slip away from his and hang at her side. He knew as well as she did how much being around Malfoy's presence every day bothered Ron. It bothered him too, but it seemed to be affecting Ron the worst. "It's not that I think he would ever actually do anything. It's just I know how hard it is for him when he's forced to work with Malfoy, but it might actually get through that thick head of his if you were the one to talk to him."

"Me?" She said, the skepticism clear in her voice. "Honestly, Harry, Ron won't listen to me. He never thinks with a clear head where Malfoy is concerned."

"He never thinks with a clear head when it comes to you either," Harry responded to her remark. "You'd be surprised though. He listens to you a lot more than you think." Then he opened the door for her and they both walked inside.

Later on that same day, and when Ron's mood had gotten so foul everyone in the house was avoiding him, Hermione decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. She grabbed some of her books and dragged Ron outside with her. Predictably, he had protested profusely, wondering why on earth she wanted to bring him along so she could study. At least studying was what she had told Harry and Ginny she would be doing, and Ron's reaction had been perfect so they wouldn't suspect otherwise. She led a complaining Ron well into the cover of trees that hid them from sight of the Lupin home.

"I will never understand you," he continued to complain when they finally stopped. "You've got a job you love and here you are wasting your time studying for – "

He never finished his sentence because Hermione had pressed her lips against his to silence him. It took a second for him to figure out what was going on before he responded to the kiss. He pushed them both forward until Hermione's back came to rest the nearest tree trunk. He grabbed both her hands that were still clutching her books and helped her to drop them uselessly to the ground.

"You had no intention of studying when you came out here, did you?" He said, his breath hot against her ear.

"Not really," she said before his lips descended on hers again.

"I think you just enjoy getting a rise out of me," he said, grinning for the first time that day.

"Maybe," she said, pretending to think it over. "Or maybe I was trying to keep you from scaring away everyone who lives here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He had been leaning down to kiss her again, but he pulled back.

"It means you've been acting like a prat for days and you're completely unbearable now that Harry's moving out."

He moved away from her and threaded his hands through the back of his hair. "I'm sorry I've been such a git lately," he said with his back to her.

She remained standing where she was. "You need to get over your prejudice of Malfoy, Ron."

"This isn't about him," he snapped, clearly telling her otherwise. "And even if it was, I don't trust him and neither should you. Look at all the shit he's put us through the last six years."

"Fine, let's say Malfoy's joined the Aurors for less than honourable reasons, but you're making things easy for him, Ron. All he had to do was show up and look what it's doing to you. You're letting him get to you and he hasn't had to lift so much as a finger."

"I already told you I wouldn't go after him," he said, turning around. "What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop letting him ruin our lives."

He blew out a frustrated breath of air. "Do we have to talk about this anymore?"

"No, we don't," she said, bending down to gather up her books. She had been right when she had told Harry he wouldn't listen to her. There was nothing she could say to make him see things differently.

"So we're fighting now?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

"No," she answered, not quite meeting his gaze.

"Oh, yeah, that sounded real convincing," he said with a roll of his eyes.

She sighed. "I'm not mad – I'm not," she said with more force than before. "It's just that for the first time in a long time everything is – well, I wouldn't call things perfect, but it's pretty close. Look at Harry – he's actually happy these days. I think with Remus's help he's finally moving on from blaming himself for Sirius' death." She left out that Harry seemed to be in the best of moods when he was around Ginny. "And there's been no sign of activity from Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters since Harry's capture almost two months ago. Then there's your dad who the wizarding community made their next Minister of Magic and no one deserves it more than him. And there's us," she said, locking her gaze with his.

"What about us?" He said, moving himself to a crouching position so that they were almost at eye level. He reached out with his hand and touched her cheek, causing her to lose sight of what she was going to say next. Only Ron could make her draw a blank like this – make her forget she was supposed to be angry that he was letting Malfoy get to him the same way he had at school. But none of that seemed to matter at the moment as she felt her face being drawn nearer to his.

Before long, she had her fingers tangled in Ron's hair and was flat on her back on the grass-covered ground. He captured her lips in a fierce kiss before moving them down her neck and then down to her collarbone.

Loud whistling caught their attention, and Ron scrambled to get to his feet, nearly falling over in his haste. His eyes were two burning blue orbs or fire.

"Damn it, Fred!" He roared. "You were spying on us, you bloody pervert!"

Fred chuckled. "If we wanted to spy on you, you sure as hell wouldn't know about it." As he finished, his other half apparated beside him. "It seems we caught these two in quite the private moment," he said to his twin.

George grinned broadly at the two of them. "It looks like our little honest Hermione may not be so innocent after all. I think Ron's corrupted her."

"That's enough!" Ron shouted angrily.

Hermione didn't even know how Ron could shout at the twins. She was too mortified to say anything. She knew the dark shade of red Ron's face had turned had as much to do with anger as it did embarrassment.

"Don't you two have a shop to run?" He said shortly.

"Actually, with the business booming we've hired a few extra hands to help us," said Fred. "They mind the shop, so we can be out testing new creations or finding new products to sell."

"Yeah, well we're not going to be any test subjects so why don't you get lost," Ron said tersely.

"Someone's a bit snippy, aren't they?" Teased George, who plunged on before Ron could interrupt. "We have some fantastic news – and for once it has nothing to do with us."

"Go on, tell us what it us," Ron encouraged him.

"We're not going to tell the story twice," Fred said. "Let's round up Harry and Ginny and we'll tell you altogether."

"Of course you two might not want to look like you've been rolling around on the grass together," George added with a wink.

Then the twins disapparated before Ron could utter a single threat on their lives.

By the time he and Hermione made it back to the Lupin house, the twins were seated in the sunroom with Harry and Ginny, talking animatedly.

When the two of them entered the sunroom, Fred said, "what took you two so long? Did you get lost or something?"

"Maybe they needed a chaperone to help them find their way back without getting distracted," George piqued up.

"What's this fantastic news you've got?" Said Ron, speaking through gritted teeth. He was determined not to look too embarrassed otherwise Harry and Ginny would figure out exactly what position the twins had caught them in.

"Patience, patience, little brother," Fred told him. "We had to come all this way just to tell you, since none of you bother to write – "

"Or visit," George chimed in.

"Except Ginny," Fred finished.

"Just tell us already," said an exasperated Ron.

"We want to throw a party in dad's honour," said George. "Just a small family gathering, nothing fancy."

"We went 'round to Grimmauld Place first to tell mum of the planned festivities. You should have seen how excited she was. She was already making a list of things to bring. She must have thought George and I were Bill and Charlie through all her tears because she started hugging us like mad."

"Shouldn't you be asking for Remus's permission first," Hermione said. "This is his house after all."

"Of course we will, but since we already know he'll say yes we can move on to the planning phase," Fred explained to her. "We're going to help set everything up. Mum won't have to do a thing."

"Except bring the food, because we don't cook or bake or do anything of the sort," George added.

"So what do you need our help with?" Harry dared to ask.

"Just help us carry some supplies from the shop to here, and help with the set up. We're going to have it next Saturday, so come by the shop on Thursday and we'll give you everything you need," Fred told them.

"But now we must be on our way," George said, jumping to his feet. "Time is money as they say, and we don't want to stay away too long with the newbie's minding the shop. Be seeing you," he said, waving good-bye to them and walking through the back door of the house.

Fred followed him in before poking his head back out. "Hermione, I've been meaning to ask you, what's that thing on your neck?"

In horror, Hermione reached up and felt the large welt there. When she looked up again, Fred was smirking at her before he disappeared inside the house.

Ginny's eyes were wide. "Hermione, is that a – "

"It's nothing," she said quickly, using her hair to try and cover her neck. "I'm going inside," she announced, standing up. She had already endured enough humiliation from the twins, she wasn't about to sit there and hear more of it from Ginny and Harry. She glared at Ron, who promptly took the hint and stood up.

"Hey, so where are the books you brought with you to study?" Harry asked when her hand was on the door.

There was a teasing look playing across his face, and for the first time she wished he could have stayed in his dark and brooding mood instead of deciding to embarrass her as well.

"I must have forgot them," she said, keeping her back to them. Once she and Ron were safely inside, she could hear the two of them laughing loudly.

It wasn't until well after dinner when she worked up the nerve to go back out and retrieve her books.


	36. Calm Before The Storm

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: Calm Before The Storm

Fred and George had spared no expense when it came to the party they threw in honour of their father's promotion. They had special firecrackers that kept setting off that took the form of Mr. Weasley's face or said things like "_Congratulations Minister of Magic_." In between all that they kept showing Tonks and Ginny some new inventions still not available to the public. For the first time since Harry had known her, Mrs. Weasley seemed to appreciate the controlled chaos going on around her, instead of reprimanding Fred and George like she had so many times in the past. For his part, Mr. Weasley was enjoying every part of the celebration being thrown in his honour. All the Weasley's were present, including Bill, Charlie, and even Percy. However, Harry knew Percy was only there at the request of Mrs. Weasley. He knew that there was no way Fred and George or any one else would have invited him. Harry was actually shocked he had showed up after the fiasco at Christmas.

It was the first time in as long as Harry could remember that they had all come together and were as completely happy and care free as they were. There was no talk about immediate threats or dangers, or even any mention of The Order. While Harry wanted to enjoy himself as much as everyone else, it was those thoughts that kept him from doing so. His gut told him this would be one of the few times they would be all together before the war took a turn for the worse.

He had quietly detached himself from the group somewhat, but not enough that anyone would really notice. The last thing he wanted was to ruin Mr. Weasley's party. If anyone deserved this kind of happiness it was the Weasley's.

Mrs. Weasley had just apparated a dozen or so plates of pastries that filled the two tables set up outside. By now, mostly every one was standing up, clustered in groups, talking and enjoying their dessert. Harry stayed where he was, watching Percy and Mr. Weasley have what looked like for a serious conversation.

"I'd be careful which one of those you eat," said a voice from beside him.

Ginny had joined him at the table.

"Fred just told me they switched a couple of the pastries with their own stash."

Harry knew well enough to take Ginny's warning seriously. He pushed the plate away from himself, not wanting to be the latest gag victim of the twins. As he was doing this a loud gasp followed by howling laughter could be heard. He and Ginny followed the sounds, seeing Bill sprouting rabbit ears. While the twins were doubled over with laughter, Bill tackled them down, demanding they fix his ears. George could barely be heard through his laughter but it sounded like it wouldn't wear off for a couple of hours and there was no reversal spell.

Harry's eyes were watering with laughter, and when he looked over at Mrs. Weasley she was having a hard time wiping the smile off her face as she scolded the twins.

"Wow, I can't believe that's mum," Ginny said in shock. "She's not even raising her voice."

"Maybe Fred and George slipped something in her pastry," said Harry.

"Not that I would put it past them," she said, turning back to Harry, "but I think mum's trying to make up for all but disowning them when she found out they dropped out of Hogwarts. I guess now that Percy's back she wants to make amends with the twins as well. It's strange he showed up without Penelope. After Christmas I would have thought he wouldn't want to be alone with any of us. Except for mum and dad of course," she added.

They grew quiet for a bit, before Harry said in a low voice, "Penelope's not the only one missing."

Ginny understood what he meant by that, but couldn't quite believe Harry was even bringing it up. She stayed quiet – she didn't want to interrupt or worse, scare him off from talking about it further.

"I keep thinking it's strange that Sirius isn't here," he said, looking off into the distance. "It's been almost a year and I'm still expecting him to be here. Does that make any sense?"

She nodded. "It doesn't matter that he's been gone that long. It doesn't mean you're supposed to care about him any less."

"Sometimes I wonder if he's really dead," he said, his green eyes meeting hers. "There was no body, he just fell through that veil." He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Is that normal to think that?"

He didn't look to be expecting an answer because he turned away almost immediately after saying it. Even if he had wanted one, she didn't think she had an answer to give him. Somehow she didn't think the usual speech that it was normal to want someone you love to still be alive would be very comforting to him. She wasn't even sure how to comfort him. Though they had grown closer over the last two years, he had never been this open, this vulnerable with her before, except that time during her first week at Lupin's.

"Do you want cake?" She said before the silence between them could stretch on for too long.

He gave her somewhat of a puzzled look before shrugging his shoulders. She took that response to be a 'yes' and stood up from the table to lead the way back into the house. On the way they passed a very red faced Bill, who kept sending deadly stares in the direction of the twins.

When they made it into the kitchen, Harry's eyes widened at the amount of food he saw there. If he had thought there was a mountain of it outside, there was almost as much sitting on the table and counters of Lupin's kitchen.

Harry watched her slice a piece of chocolate cake first for himself and then for her. "You sure your mum won't mind?"

"As long as we don't touch the one she made especially for dad, we'll be fine," she told him.

Sitting on the table, Harry could see a large rectangular cake with the face of Mr. Weasley on it, drawn with what was obviously magical icing, since it would alternate between ginning proudly and winking.

"Here," she said, handing him his slice of cake. She rummaged around in the top most drawers, saying, "I think mum's taken all the cutlery outside. She must have thought we were having a hundred people over instead of fifteen."

"That's fine. I can use my hands," Harry said without concern. He picked up the cake and took a mouthful. "What's the matter, Ginny? Never eaten with your hands before?" He teased, seeing that she was undecided between using her hands and going outside and grabbing a fork.

She stuck out her tongue at him and picked up the slice of cake.

"Why don't you let me help you with that," he said, and put his own plate on the counter.

"Harry, I'm quite capable of feeding myself," she protested, as he took the cake out of her fingers.

She didn't even have time to react before he forced the cake into her mouth, with the majority of it landing on her face. He took a step back from her, barely able to contain his laughter.

"I can't believe you just did that," she said in complete shock. She had never witnessed this kind of playful behaviour in Harry before. "You're going to pay for that, Harry Potter," she said, picking up the slice of cake he had left on the counter. She lunged for him, and probably because he wasn't expecting her to retaliate, couldn't get out of her line of fire in time. The problem was, Harry was quite a bit taller then her, so he was able to keep straining his neck to keep his face away from her hand that held the cake. It was a no-win situation, so she decided to turn the tables on him and change her plan of attack. She took the cake and mashed it against his chest. Then she backed away from him, laughing uncontrollably.

"Hey, that's not fair," he said staring down at his cake covered shirt.

"I didn't know there were rules," she managed to get out between fits of laughter.

"At least all you have to is wipe your face off, I'm going to have to go upstairs and change," he complained. "You Weasley's fight dirty."

"That would have done you good to remember that before you started this."

"Potter's are dirty fighters too," he said and then attacked.

"Harry, no!" She shrieked and moved as far away from him as she could in the small confinements of the kitchen. Harry was much too fast for her. All those weeks of Auror training combined with his natural Seeker abilities, made her an easy target. When he had her backed up against the counter, he grabbed what he could of the cake she had smashed on his shirt and tried to do the same to her. She managed to grab a hold of the hand that was close to her, but now Harry's face was so close to hers everything seemed to change. The playfulness was suddenly over. She was still gripping his hand tightly, and neither one of them made any attempts to break free.

The way he was looking at her now, made her forget she was standing in Lupin's kitchen where any one of a dozen people could walk in – including her parents – made her forget that was already involved with someone, and made her forget she was supposed to be over Harry. Then she just seemed to forget everything as Harry's lips came crashing down against hers.

She wondered how she could ever forget what kissing Harry was like and at the same time think this was a million times better than the first time all those months ago. Using the hand that wasn't covered in cake, Harry placed it against the small of her back and pushed her closer to him. Every rational thought seemed to erase itself from his mind, not that he was able to think rationally around her to begin with. He almost had to take a step back from her it was so intense. It had never felt like this before. Everything – the feelings, the sensations were intensified a hundred times more.

Someone clearing their throat made him pull his lips away from Ginny's and the two of them separated faster then was humanly possible.

Charlie stood in the doorway, his face wearing a look that Harry had seen on Ron's face many times when he was struggling to control his temper.

"I thought I'd come in and grab some cake, but it looks like you two have already helped yourself," he said in a deadly calm voice.

Ginny knew she has some serious damage control on her hands. "Charlie, what you saw – "

"Ginny, I don't need you to explain to me what I saw," he cut her off. "I'm not blind – though I kind of wish I was now."

"This isn't any of your business," she said sharply.

Charlie ignored her. "Gin, mum's looking for you, you should go outside."

She didn't believe him, even if her mum was looking for her she wasn't going to leave so her brother could do bodily harm to Harry. "I'm not a little a kid anymore," she said, placing her hands on her hips, "you can't tell me what to do."

"Ginny, it's all right," Harry said, not taking his eyes off Charlie. "Go outside."

Reluctantly, she chose to leave, but not before throwing her brother the iciest glare she could muster.

Charlie didn't speak until he had heard the back door shut behind her. "It's scary how much she looks like mum when she's angry."

Harry didn't say anything. There wasn't a single word he could say that would help him out of the mess he was in.

"Contrary to what Ginny thinks, I'm not going to beat you to a bloody pulp," Charlie said, still glaring at him. "As far as I know, she's still dating that Dean Thomas bloke, right?"

Harry's inability to answer confirmed that.

"Of course if I never would have guessed it by what I walked in on. I don't know what the hell you were thinking but be glad it was me that caught you and not another Weasley who happens to call himself your best mate," he said, losing some of the glare on his face. "Look, Harry, I'm not going to give you the over-protective brother speech, because you already know what would happen if you hurt my baby sister and her six other older brothers were to find out about it."

Harry didn't even need to hear the threatening sound in Charlie's voice to know the threat was valid, but he wasn't going to allow himself to be intimidated by Ron's older brother either. Charlie would do good to remember that he was an Auror in training.

"You might want to change before you go back out there," said Charlie before he walked out of the kitchen and back outside.

Harry trudged upstairs, taking extra care to change his shirt and make sure the rest of him was presentable before heading outside. He got one last warning glare from Charlie as he joined the others at the table, where Mrs. Weasley was handing out pieces of the cake with her husband's face on it, and then the older Weasley didn't look at him again. For that matter, Harry couldn't bring himself to look Ginny again that night either. The same mistakes he had made with Cho, he was starting to make all over again with her.

To his credit, he would be moving out of there tomorrow and that would create some distance between them before he could do something stupid and impulsive like that again.

"No offense, mate, but I'm really glad you don't have a lot of stuff," said Ron, walking into the house, which currently had boxes stacked up along the kitchen and living room walls. "Where do you want these?" He was carrying two large boxes marked 'Hogwarts' on them.

They were probably his schoolbooks and Gryffindor Quidditch robes. While Ron had been happy to bury anything to do with school at the back of his closet, Harry preferred to keep his stuff around. Hogwarts had been his first real home and most of the best moments of his life had happened there that he couldn't bring himself to throw any of it away.

"Just leave them in the hallway outside of the second bedroom," Harry told him from where he stood in the living room with Lupin, dropping down his own set of boxes.

"Do you need a hand with that?" They heard Hermione ask him.

"Oh right, I forgot, you're carrying practically nothing," said a sarcastic Ron.

"You were the one who insisted on showing off and taking more than you could carry," she said evenly.

"More than I could carry?" He said in indignation. "I could carry you along with these two boxes."

"Is that your way of saying I'm fat or something?"

Ron looked passed her and over to Harry and Lupin for support, but the two of them were too busy trying to contain their laughter.

"Sorry, Ron, you're on your own with this one," Harry said to him. He was most certainly not going to let himself be roped into this quarrel.

"Right, I'll remember that next time you ask for my help," he said, and took off down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Hermione turned and winked at them before following. She had just been playing with Ron. She knew she shouldn't, but Ron was so easy to get a rise out of sometimes she couldn't help herself.

"Ron certainly seems more cheerful these days," Remus noted, listening to the two of them carry on down the hall. "Malfoy finally stopped giving him a hard time, has he?"

"I don't know about that," replied Harry. "But I think Malfoy's seen enough of what Ron can do that he knows not to push him too far or he'll be sorry."

Lupin nodded his understanding. "What about you? Is Malfoy making things difficult for you as well?

"I ignore him most of the time. It's harder for Ron though because Mackenzie likes to pair him up with Malfoy."

"How is it? The training I mean."

Harry shrugged. "I knew it would be tough, but it's even harder then I imagined. I'll get through it though," he added because he didn't want Lupin to think it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The extensive training was more difficult then his encounters with Voldemort had ever been.

Lupin bent low and picked up one of the boxes he had brought in earlier. "You might want to unpack this one first. Consider it a house warming gift."

"What is it?" Harry asked, pulling off the top.

"It's some of your parents things," said Lupin, his voice somber. "Before they went into hiding after you were born, they had some of their more personal effects put into storage. Sirius and I had been planning to go through it since he got out of Azkaban, but we never got the chance."

Harry swallowed hard. Aside from his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, and the one photo album, he had little else to remind him of his parents. Now Lupin had presented him with an entire box full of their belongings. As he pulled out photos and some letters written on parchment, it became clear that most of these possessions were from their school days at Hogwarts.

"What are you looking at?" Came Ron's voice as he and Hermione joined them in the living room.

"It's some of my parents things," Harry said, his voice low.

"Oh," said Ron and went silent.

"Do you mind?" Hermione said gently, reaching inside the box.

He shook his head. If anyone understood what these things meant to him it would be her. She pulled out what appeared to be a yellowing folded piece of parchment. She immediately passed it to him.

"It's a program for a play," she said.

He wasn't sure why they would have kept that. Maybe it had been some important moment for them that he would never know about.

"Read what it says on the cover," She said to him.

He wasn't sure what she was getting at until he read it first to himself and then out loud to everyone else. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry proudly presents Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare, with James Potter as Romeo and Lily Evans as Juliet."

Lupin smiled wistfully. "I don't know how I could have forgotten about that. It was the beginning of seventh year. Dumbledore thought it would be fun to make the Head Girl and Boy bring the school together for something other than Quidditch. Your mother, Harry, thought it would be a brilliant idea to put on a muggle play. Dumbledore supported her idea, while James hated it. I believe his exact words were no real man would prance around a stage wearing tights. Lily argued he was too afraid to try out for a part, and your father never being one to back down from a challenge tried out for the part of Romeo. Needless to say, things finally began to change between the two of them during all those weeks of practice."

Harry remembered how upset he had been to learn what his father had really been like during his school days when he had looked into Snape's thoughts using the Pensieve. Sirius and Lupin had both tried to tell him that he shouldn't judge his father based on what he had been like during fifth year, and that his mother really didn't despise him. Besides their word, he now had the proof in his hands that things had finally begun to change between them in seventh year.

"I think I'll go through the rest of this later," he said quietly, putting the program back in the box.

"We could go back to the house and get some lunch," Lupin suggested, "since I think it's safe to say you don't have anything to eat around here yet."

The idea of lunch sounded good to all of them. He left the box full of mementos of his parents where it was, knowing it would be there waiting for him when he was ready to go through it again.

Hermione and Ron led the way out of the house, Harry followed behind them, stopping just inside the doorway to look around at his new home. He couldn't help but think that this time last year he had been on his way back to the Dursleys. It felt like he was starting over somehow. He might not have going back to Hogwarts to look forward to, but he had five months of training left before he would become a full-fledge Auror, and he could finally spend an entire summer seeing his friends whenever he wanted. Perhaps it was a sign that at least for the next little while everything would be fine – that everything would be as close to normal as he would ever get.

End of Part I

A/N: I've already started work on a sequel to this, so I hope to start posting chapters for that in early August. That fic will not include anything that happens in the Half-Blood Prince in order to correspond with the events in this story.

Once again, huge thank-you's to everyone who reviewed this fic, and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.


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